Tis The Season of Summertime
by Matt Silver 3k
Summary: Harry's Occlumency manifests in an interesting way and he finds himself shielded by and from insanity, while dealing with and against Death Eaters and taking control of his life. 'Tis the season of summertime, and what a summer it'll be! HP/DG. COMPLETE!
1. Shielded by and from Insanity

Disclaimer :: All things Harry Potter are owned by JK Rowling, and it would be quite an insult to her if I were to claim them as my own wouldn't it? _¡No es mina!_

'Tis The Season of Summertime

Written by Matt Silver

Sandwiches, goblins and bloodsuckers and Greengrasses, oh my!

..::..--.--..::..

Rated justly thanks to coarse language, crude humour, crude sexual related humour, sexual references, violence and humorous sadism (But not in the sexual way. Just kidding, really. Maybe. Okay, I am. Now ask yourself, what am I kidding about? The sadism or the sexual sadism? Muwhahaha). Do not take this fic too seriously, it's a little crack-like. Suspension of disbelief is required sometimes. Canon up until book 5, all AU from there.

..::..--.--..::..

Chapter 1 :: Shielded by and from Insanity

..::..--.--..::..

Harry Potter's perfect sandwich featured two slices of wholemeal bread, a light coating of softened butter on each piece of bread, a layer of shaved chicken breast and two slices of hard cheese. Since his godfather died, his perfect sandwich had an extra slice of cheese.

"Living life on the edge," he muttered to himself.

It was the summer after Harry's fifth year, and it was nearing the end of July and his upcoming birthday. Unfortunately for the Boy-Who-Lived, his summer would be spent in _Casa del Dursley. _A few days ago, Harry received a letter from his Headmaster/frenemy Dumbledore, instructing him to stay at Number Four, Privet Drive, for the rest of the summer, and to practice up his Occlumency. His Occlumency training was helped along by some useful books sent by the Headmaster.

A post-note at the bottom of Dumbledore's letter indicated that he would send Professor Snape to Number Four to check Harry's Occlumency prowess.

Somewhere, far away, a dozen street lamps exploded because of Harry's anger and accidental magic.

Harry's reply to Dumbledore was short and sweet as vague sarcasm can be:

_'Dear' Professor Dumbledore,_

_A thanks for the Occlumency texts. Maybe I'll actually get somewhere in that helpful subject. And thanks for reminding me of my summer plans. _

_Anyway, if you send Snivellus here at all, I will personally pull out each hair from your beard with superheated tweezers. And by the way, how about you send me some __useful__ texts? Advanced Duelling, Creative Jinxes and Hexes, Auror training manuals. If it's not too much trouble,_

_Harry, prisoner number #731-Screw-You_

"With superheated tweezers," Harry recited, adding the cheese to his perfect sandwich.

Sandwich complete, Harry left the Dursley kitchen and started upstairs. His perfect sandwich was cradled, ready to be eaten and savoured up in his bedroom. However, Harry's unnatural lack of luck won out and he ran into his cousin Dudley.

"Watch it!" Dudley grunted, looking affronted at bumping shoulders with his wizard cousin.

Harry, still cradling his sandwich, didn't reply.

Dudley noticed the sandwich, smiled greedily and reached for it with a pudgy hand. Harry pulled his hands back, and Dudley dove for him. To save himself, Harry sidestepped, hands flailing. Unfortunately, Dudley's dive knocked the sandwich from Harry's hands and sent it to the base of the stairs.

"No!" Harry cried. He knew the sandwich was gone, and it was too late. But it hurt.

"They will never find any part of you," Harry said contemptuously to his overweight cousin.

Dudley snorted. "You can't use your freak stuff now."

"Who says I'll use magic?" asserted Harry. "Vernon and Petunia taught me how to clean without it from day one Dudley. I could kill you and no one would find you. And the pieces of you - Dudley? What's that smell?"

Harry never found out which one of Dudley's bodily functions failed him in fear, as his cousin ran up the stairs and into the bathroom. Harry, hungry and tired, sighed and headed to his own room. Inside, he found Hedwig awaiting on the windowsill, clutching a letter in her beak. On the front of the envelope was a familiar curly handwriting, and Harry dreaded the opening of that letter.

"Here goes nothing," Harry sighed. He opened up the letter and gave a quick read.

_My dear Harry,_

_You're welcome for the helpful Occlumency texts. I hope you find the subject as fascinating and helpful as I did._

_Unfortunately, it seems the bottom half of your letter was lost in transit to my office. I'm sure nothing important was lost, right Harry?_

_Oh well. Have a good summer,_

_Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. _

"That fucker."

Hours later, Harry decided there was no fun in sitting in his bedroom and brooding, so he reluctantly pulled out _The Art of the Occlumens _from the secret compartment underneath his floorboards and removed the bookmark inside of it.

"Page four," he read. "How to clear your mind and create a basic Occulmency shield in twelve easy steps. Step one, do not attempt a Legilimency attack until at least ten minutes after your mind is 'cleared'. Snivellus forgot that little tidbit it seems. Step two, get in a comfortable position..."

Harry read through the chapter twice to be sure, and attempted what the book called a 'Retrograde Legilimens' shield. After clearing his mind (Easier than it sounds, the book advises to focus on one object and make that your cleared mindscape), he imagined that Snape was raiding his mind again (Because he couldn't use magic at the moment) and remembered the feeling clearly. From there, the shield he created was the backwards effect of Snape leaving his mind.

This backwards Legilimens shield took another hour to put together. Harry felt like whooping in joy when he felt the sensation of an Occlumency shield in his head (As described in the book). It took a few minutes for him to realise that his Occlumency success was accompanied by a dizzy spell (No pun intended).

A dizzy spell that led to light headedness, associated with lack of food and magical exhaustion. A burst of pain suddenly blinded him, and he fell to his knees. However, Harry swore he heard a voice before passing out.

A voice saying, "Thank my dear and fluffly god! I mean, this is even better than me and Andrea Summerby in the broom cupboard in fifth year. Oh, she had a tongue like a-"

..::..--.--..::..

When Harry came to, he noticed immediately that his head pain was gone, and he was not alone in the smallest bedroom of Number Four. No, there was a man in his room. Thankfully, the man was clothed in simple and neat robes, with a neat beard and a healthy skin colour. It was a direct contrast from the last time Harry saw that man. But then again, the last time Harry saw that man it was with him being propelled into a ratty curtain, eyes open in shock. The man smiled widely, a smile Harry recognised anywhere. Wasn't that man dead?

Oh yeah, it was Sirius Black.

"Oh my horsefaced aunt," Harry moaned.

"My aunts are all incestous," 'Sirius' said matter-of-factly. "How are you doing Harry?"

Harry shook his head, took off his glasses and blinked slowly. He could still see a Sirius-shaped blob in front of him, so it wasn't a stain on his lens. Yes, a stain that could talk and imitate his dead godfather. He replaced his glasses and narrowed his eyes. He had finally lost it! Gone crazy, nuts, insane, bonzo, no longer in possession of ones facilities, three fries short of a happy meal -

"WACKO!" Harry burst out.

"Harry?" 'Sirius' asked worriedly. "It's part of my godfatherly duties to make sure you're not crazy. So... are you crazy?"

Harry took a seat on his bed and started to twitch his hands a little. "I'm seeing my dead godfather, how are you?"

"Oh good," Sirius said, relieved. "You're not crazy! With that and last year's little chat, I've fulfilled my main godfatherly duties."

Harry shivered at the mention of the Sirius Black version of the 'birds and bees having wild, elbowy, missionary sex' talk.

"Hungry," Harry said finally. "I feel hungry, and confused, and wondering what I'm actually talking too."

Sirius chuckled and took a seat on Harry's desk. To Harry's surprise, his godfather didn't fall through like a ghost would. Had he become a poltergeist or something?

The ghost/poltergist/lack-of-food related crazy noticed Harry's look.

"Oh, I can walk through walls, but I can do the whole sitting and standing on solid stuff," Sirius clarified.

"Good for you," Harry bit out, still confounded about the whole thing.

"Let's lay some simple rules," Sirius explained. "One, only you can see me. If your fat uncle was to walk through the door, he would see you talking to yourself, and not a roguishly handsome godfather. Two, the only reason you can see me is because of your Occlumency exercises, combined with the Visum Nex Effect."

Harry gave his godfather a confused look.

"Visum Nex is basically magic that can be performed thanks to seeing a death. For example, you can see Thestrals because you saw Cedric Diggory die," Sirius continued. "You can see me because I fell through that freaking curtain and was hanging around just beyond the afterlife. Once I was in the veil, I was able to find my way into your head from there. Your head was weak from the Occlumency training, and I wormed my way in. My presence is kind of another Occlumency shield too, so I'm not just being useless."

"Wait, wait," Harry interrupted. "You came through the veil and into my head?"

"But my body is still inside the veil," Sirius added. "You could hear voices coming from the veil right?"

Harry nodded. Last he could remember, Luna Lovegood could hear them too. And the two of them could also both see Thestrals...

"Visum Nex Effect," Sirius explained, literally reading Harry's mind. He was stuck in there after all. "And since you saw me die by that veil, I was able to find my way into your head specifically. So if you pushed Bellatrix through the veil, she could theoretically find her way in your head because you witnessed her death and it was using the veil. But personally, I want to hang her from her toenails and drop her into a vat of hungry sharks instead of pushing her through a curtain."

"Why stop at that?" Harry wondered aloud.

Sirius smiled. "Spoken like my true godson! Don't worry about her or Voldemort right now Harry."

"Why not?"

Sirius' grin widened. Harry's internal threat levels rose from Philosopher's Stone to Chamber of Secrets proportions.

"Uh-oh."

Sirius started pacing in Harry's room, arms waving widely and muttering under his breath. When Harry heard the words 'Banana hedgehog' uttered from his godfather's mouth, his internal threat levels were raised to the escaped Azkaban prisoner level.

"Sirius... what are you thinking?" he asked warily.

"A holiday," Sirius said finally. "Think about it! You need to escape, Harry. You need to bust out of this joint and have some fun! And if we're on the run from some Aurors or Death Eaters or Order members, so be it! Let's do it!"

"Let's do it?" Harry repeated. "Sirius, are you trying to live through me or something?"

Sirius pouted. "Of course not."

"Not reassuring me!"

"We'll hammer out the details later," Sirius said dismissively.

There was a moment of silence as Harry tried to regain his bearings. Apparently, his godfather had come back to him, and his Occlumency training was done all at once. Either a win-win situation or the biggest mindfuck of all time.

"How are you doing, Harry?" Sirius asked. Harry grinned, whether it be from the lack of food or the bruise developing on his knee. Throughout the entire conversation with his godfather, he was pinching his left knee rather hard, just in case.

"Fine, for now," Harry admitted. "But I am kind of tired."

"Oh right," Sirius said, grinning sheepishly. "Me appearing to you like this will kind of drain you the first few times. So, you know, feel free to fall asleep."

Harry acquiesced, falling asleep almost instantly, vaguely muttering about lost opportunities of the sandwich kind.

..::..--.--..::..

It took four days, but Harry and Sirius finally hashed out their grand plan. Of course, the plan was simple in the end, and it wouldn't involve exploding rats, peanut butter, a meat grinder or banana hedgehog decoys. Nor would the plan use the 140 jars of mayonnaise Petunia bought in bulk for Dudley a few months ago, to Sirius' disappointment. Harry had to reign in some of his godfather's more outlandish ideas, and the two agreed on the basics. Get out of Privet Drive, get some money, and get out of the country to one of Sirius' island properties and relax for the summer. Everything else could wait, right?

The first step in their plan was for Harry to steal two items from his uncle and not be noticed: A fishing rod and some cheap whiskey Vernon kept in several key places throughout the house. Harry had found one of Vernon's bottles hiding inside a gaudy vase Aunt Marge gave the Dursleys for Christmas. And thus, the real reason for Vernon wanting that vase in the living room next to the television was revealed.

"I like what it represents," he would say.

It took Harry a day to procure Vernon's unused fishing rod, and another day to tie the whiskey bottle to the end of the rod successfully. The next step saw Harry on the roof of Privet Drive, storing the rod and whiskey in a gutter and wearing his Invisibility Cloak.

"Now," Sirius said, lazing on the roof without a care in the world, "We wait for our fish to come biting."

"I think it's today," Harry said optimistically. "Tonks is on Tuesdays and Friday nights from 6pm to 9pm last week and 6:05pm to 9:30pm the week before, Kingsley has Thursdays and Saturday mornings every second weekend, Moody I know has the other Saturdays, but I have no idea when else, Remus has Sunday, Monday and Wednesday nights-"

"He needs to date more," Sirius interjected.

"I think he's taking shifts to escape from that," Harry added. "Then Mr Weasley has Sunday days, and Hestia or Vance on Thursday and Tuesday nights. And Dung has today, I think. Haven't put much thought into it."

"You know, I have to wonder what kind of crazy schedule Dumbledore has them on," Sirius pondered. "And where do your guards hide?"

"Moody patrols the house, Remus hides in the bushes, Tonks sits on the roof, Kingsley usually paces the front lawn, Vance sits on the window ledge outside of the living room, watching the Dursleys. Bit of a nutter really."

Sirius shrugged. "And Mundungus?"

Harry pointed to the Dursley backyard, amidst the rose bushes and alike. In the middle of the well kept backyard was a large marble birdbath with a fat cupid spurting water into it.

"Dung lies under the birdbath, sleeping," Harry remarked, shaking his head sadly.

Sirius whistled low, then started laughing. Harry joined in for a minute, before hearing a large gunshot noise in his backyard. Typical Dung always Apparated into the backyard where Muggles could hear. Luckily, Harry's Muggles were off to the market today, stocking up on tonnes of food (Dudley), gossip magazines (Petunia and Dudley) and cheap alcohol (Vernon and occasionally Dudley and Petunia).

Moments later, Harry and Sirius heard a soft grunting as Dung shuffled across the backyard for his guard duty/nap. As soon as he settled (Harry could see his feet sticking out from the Invisibility Cloak), Harry picked up a nearby rock and took aim.

"Go for the crotch," Sirius advised, grinning.

Harry rolled his eyes and aimed at what he guessed was Dung's midriff. He threw the small rock with as much force as he could, impacting on his guard's upper thigh area.

"So close," Sirius said regretfully.

Dung yelped and stood up instantly, the Cloak shrugged off and his wand out. Harry readjusted his own Invisibility Cloak and grabbed hold of the fishing rod, whiskey bottle hanging off the end. Like a pro with a day of practice, Harry flung the rod, dangling the bottle in front of Dung's unshaven face.

Using the analogy that Dung was like a kid on Christmas morning when it came to alcohol is apt, and Dung snatched for the bottle with so much enthusiasm he didn't even notice the fishing line attached to it. Harry reeled the bottle in a bit, making Dung lurch forward to get his present. The thief/Order member dropped his wand to dive for the bottle, as Harry kept reeling in.

"Now!" Sirius urged.

Harry nodded and lowered his grip on the rod. The bottle started towards the ground, and Dung flew forward to catch it. Unfortunately, Harry had quickly pulled the rod up, and Dung was simply sprawled on the ground, no bottle in hand. Harry rolled his eyes before dropping the bottle on his guard's head, knocking the man out.

"Brilliant!" Sirius praised, as Harry started to scale down the roof. Sirius had his own way of appearing out of nowhere, so he was still on the roof. "I mean, he was obviously drunk, so that made things easier."

"Makes you wonder what Moody or Remus would've done to the bottle," Harry pondered, approaching the unconscious Order member.

Sirius popped off the roof and appeared at Harry's side instantly. "Instead of pondering the what-ifs, maybe you could hope like hell they're closet alcoholics. I mean, Remus is extremely stressed and Moody always drinks from a flask..."

"True," Harry agreed. He picked up Dung's wand and waved it. A dozen or so brown sparks shot out the end, and Harry nodded. "I can use his wand for a bit."

Sirius nodded. He approached Dung's body, stepping around the small blood puddle forming from Dung's nose (Harry himself saw the blood and thought of eating marmalade for some reason), and spotted something in the man's robes.

"Hi-ho silver!"

Harry bounded over and reached into Dung's robes, pulling out a shiny and delicate silver necklace. A necklace that Harry had definitely seen that before.

"Your stuff?" he asked, dangling the necklace in front of Sirius.

"My stuff," Sirius confirmed. "Little weasel tried to filch it before I could."

"Well... you were dead."

"Still!" Sirius cried indignantly. "I'm technically on the mortal plane now, thanks to you."

"Thanks to me," Harry said to himself. "Thanks to you, I'm now planning to escape the country for the summer, with Dumbledore and Voldemort looking for me, and all kinds of shit storms going to brew when I come back in September."

"Always focusing on the negative," Sirius said, shaking his head. "Think positive for a bit! You can talk and chat to me and I'm teaching you all kinds of stuff. And since I got in your head, Voldemort hasn't even got close to giving you those creepy nightmares! And admit it, breaking Dung's nose was pretty fun."

Harry thought it about for a moment. Thinking positive seemed like a good idea for a while. At least until all his friends and allies in England got their angry, angry hands on him after the summer.

Harry pocketed Dung's money, the silver necklace and wand, covering up the man with the Order's communal and smelly Invisibility Cloak (It was used by at least eight others after all). He left Dung in the backyard at Sirius' insistence, who noted that it was funnier that way. Harry returned to his bedroom, and started removing several key items from the secret compartment under his bed. Hedwig was sent off to Hermione for the summer, with promise that her master would be alive by the end of it. Sirius coached him into Shrinking Spells and alike, so Harry could at least carry his trunk as a compact size. However, Harry discovered the hard way that his trunk wasn't supposed to be shrunk, especially when it turned purple and started to take on the smell of rotten eggs.

"Probably just Dung's wand," Sirius assured him.

Harry strapped his Firebolt across his back and Disillusioned it, pocketed his trunk wrapped in a pair of socks, and put his Invisibility Cloak on before leaving Privet Drive for the summer.

"Nice day," Harry mused, strolling down Wisteria Walk. He spotted two rats fighting over some piece of rubbish, and still smiled. Indeed, he still smiled when one of the rats snapped the other's neck with its bare paws, its opponent's blood spurting out onto the pavement. And he still smiled as he wondered how it was physically possible for the neck breaking to occur.

Upon arriving near a secluded alleyway, Harry pulled out Dung's wand and pointed it at the street. Seconds passed before a violently violet triple-decker bus appeared with a BANG, waiting for a passenger to board it. Harry pulled off his Invisibility Cloak and pocketed it, approaching the bus.

The conductor began speaking almost immediately. "Welcome to the Knight Bus-"

"Yes yes," Harry said briskly, imitating his Transfiguration professor Minerva McGonagall. "I'm going to the Leaky Cauldron. Take the Sickles, I don't want anything else, and I will have a nice day. Mmm 'kay?"

After paying the conductor, Harry took a seat on the top floor of the bus at Sirius' insistence.

"Never rode up here," Sirius said, staring out the windows. "Mrs Potter never let me and James past the second floor when we were kids. Something about high mortality rate, whatever that means."

Harry was really starting to doubt sitting on the top floor of the Knight Bus, especially when no one else was.

"Spare change?"

Apparently no one else.

Standing at the back of bus were a bunch of rickety benches stacked up in a tall half-circle formation. However, Harry could spot several pairs of bright eyes poking through the bench enclosure, and he guessed there was something on board with him. Hesitantly, he moved a bit forward.

"Sorry?" he half-asked. Sirius displayed one of his new talents as an Occlumency shield by walking through several benches and peering through the enclosure.

"Woah!" he exclaimed. "Harry, there's people back here!"

Harry moved forward cautiously, wand in hand just in case. Upon reaching the bench enclosure, he warily poked his head in an opening. And sure enough, there were quite a few people there. The bus-dwellers were sitting around a campfire, all wearing ratty robes and looking greasier than Snape on a Tuesday. About half a dozen of the witches and wizards had their hands out in a begging gesture, apparently wanting some money or food.

"An outsider!" one of the homeless exclaimed happily. He was the oldest with more hair than skin showing and was naked except for one small rag covering his genitalia.

"What... you people live up here?" Harry asked warily. The men and women all nodded happily, several more putting their hands out in the same begging gesture.

"We have lived here since this bus was created," the leader recited. "All those years ago, I lost my job at the Ministry and had to take up residence somewhere. I had no money, and I needed a home. This place became my sanctuary, but my family refused to come live here with me."

"Who could blame them?" Harry muttered.

"I created this enclosure with some nifty charmwork. And I convinced the driver to let me stay in exchange for my fellow homeless performing sexual favours for him."

Sirius shook his head, grinning madly. "Explains why Mrs P. didn't want us up here."

"Several more people out of the job joined me here. We all live in these expanded trunks," the leader continued, gesturing to the pile of old bags, suitcases and trunks in the corner of their enclosure. "We let all those in need into the sanctuary, where they will one day find pure enlightenment."

"By living in bags and doing stuff to the driver?" Harry wondered.

"Do not mock our faith," the leader chided. "Many have found enlightenment here before stepping off the Knight Bus and living their lives to the fullest as pure and good human beings."

"Or they got jobs."

"They never visited! They're lives were obviously at the fullest!"

"Or they couldn't stand the smell."

"They were the ones we all look up to!"

"For leaving?"

The leader stood up suddenly, his expression angry. "Either give us some money OR GET OUT!"

Harry pulled his head back slowly, afraid of the homeless people's wandering hands. He backed away from the benches (With hands still poking out of the enclosure), turning to head down to the second floor. However, he bumped into a familiar face as he did so.

"Potter!" Dolores Umbridge cried. Harry's eyes narrowed in distaste at his tormenter for the past year. "What are you doing here?"

Too angry to respond coherently, Harry stuck with, "What are YOU doing here?"

Sirius appeared at Harry's side instantly, narrowing his eyes at Umbridge.

"Plan, Harry?" he asked. Harry shook his head, gripping his wand as he did so. A moment passed, and Harry took in Umbridge's appearance carefully. Her normally violently pink coloured robes were a dulled mauve, and her usually tame hair was mussed and untied. She looked thinner and gaunt, a lot like she did upon leaving the Forbidden Forest at the end of Harry's fifth year. Harry smiled patronisingly at the thought of Umbridge kicking and screaming, being dragged away by centaurs.

"How're things?" Sirius said suddenly. Harry looked at him like he was insane-r than usual, then realised that Sirius was instructing him on what to say.

"How are things?" Harry repeated. Umbridge's beady eyes widened a little, but she recovered quickly.

"I'm not a filthy liar and menace to society, how are you?" she asked sweetly.

"You're looking like you just got mauled by a pack of centaurs," Sirius said.

Harry recited Sirius' reply word for word, speaking slowly and enjoying the drop in colour on his enemy's face. She flinched at the word 'centaur', and collapsed on a nearby bench.

"How's your job?" Sirius said tauntingly.

"How's your job?" Harry asked.

To Harry and Sirius' surprise, Umbridge almost burst into tears. She suddenly looked twenty years older, if possible.

"Somewhere out there," Sirius started, shaking his head. "There's a portrait of Dolores Umbridge getting prettier and thinner as time goes on."

Before Umbridge could actually start to cry, Harry decided to rub it in a little.

"So, you lost your job?"

Umbridge nodded slowly.

Harry wondered what she was doing on the third floor of the Knight Bus. "And you're here to join those homeless nuts?"

Umbridge nodded again.

"And you just blew the driver?" Sirius asked. Harry grinned and nodded.

"And the driver? Did you jolly his roger?"

Umbridge finally lost it, sobbing into her hands pathetically. Something new reverberated inside of Harry, and he had the perfect idea for revenge on the pitiful and foul woman. As if losing her job wasn't enough...

"I'm so sorry," Harry said consolingly, patting the air above her shoulder.

"You are?" Umbridge blubbered, looking up desperately.

Harry burst out laughing, shocking his former DADA Professor. Before he could stop himself, he took a step back from her and reared his left leg back.

"Sorry that I must not tell lies!" With that, Harry kicked her across the face with a sickening force and a 'CRACK!', blood spurting from her nose and cheekbones and splattering on the walls and floor. Harry heard several crunchy sounds as she collapsed against the bench, moaning piteously. Harry took the high road and went down to the first floor of the Knight Bus, waiting for it to arrive at the Leaky Cauldron.

All experiences on the top floor of the triple-decker were pushed from Harry's mind, to keep his sanity in check.

..::..--.--..::..

"That was brilliant, Harry!" Sirius cackled.

"What the hell was that?" Harry demanded. The two were outside the Leaky Cauldron after the Knight Bus dropped them off and no one else was in the street, and no one saw a teenager supposedly yelling at himself.

"What was what?" Sirius chortled.

Harry growled softly. "THAT!"

"The Umbridge thing?"

"Yes that. Why did I kick her like that?"

"Hmm... is it because you wanted to?"

"Yes," Harry agreed. "I wanted to, but I never got the courage to do something like that. I'm guessing you did something!"

Sirius said nothing, confirming Harry's fears.

"Either stop screwing around up there or I will find a way to revive your body and kill you myself!"

Sirius frowned. "Occlumency is about blocking emotion and projecting something else, as well as protecting the mind from magical invasions. Yes, I'm more than just your normal Occlumency shield, one that you can't control fully. And one that decided that you needed to project more confidence and risk taking behaviour, so I fiddled with things. I removed your self angst, I did you a favour. Harry, you probably knew from the start you were changing up here, and you didn't confront me about it then."

"I know..." Harry said, anger mostly lost.

"So you felt guilty about Umbridge?" Sirius half-asked.

"No, of course not," Harry replied slowly. "It's just that I really savoured that little kick in the face. It's like one of my dreams come true, and that's a weird feeling."

"And this isn't?" said Sirius. "We're currently outside of Diagon Alley, about to take some money from Gringotts and leave the country. You have stolen from Dung, hurt two people who you didn't like, escaped that hellhole at the Dursleys, and you're taking control of your life. With me up here, get used to it."

Harry smiled wryly. "Dumbledore's going to be pissed."

"Nah," Sirius dismissed. "Just say it was for the greater good before he gets a chance to. Simple really."

"I'll need your backup when it happens," Harry affirmed, turning to walk into the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry made his way through the pub rather easily, despite all the customers and him being the famous Boy-Who-Lived. It was fairly easy for him to navigate Diagon Alley after putting on his Invisibility Cloak, combined with low shopper numbers on a Wednesday afternoon. So he easily made it to Gringotts, removing his cloak once inside.

"Business?" the goblin teller asked snidely, looking down at Harry with its long nose.

"The Galleon kind," Harry affirmed, pulling out his key. "I need a withdrawal from the Potter trust vault."

"The Potter trust vault?" the goblin said. "I'm sorry sir, but that vault is shut for the next three months."

Sirius popped into existence at that moment, sitting on the goblin's desk. "What the hell?"

Harry shot him a look, and turned back to the goblin. "What the hell?"

"I said that the trust vault is shut," the goblin said slowly.

"He's not wearing any pants!" Sirius exclaimed, looking behind the desk. "Oh wait, this man goblin is a female goblin! If I had a body, I'd vomit."

Praying that Sirius wouldn't find a way to vomit through him, Harry focused his attention on the wall behind his female goblin teller and asked, "Why is my vault shut?"

"It's a merging," the goblin explained. "The recent will of Sirius Black-"

"That's me!"

"-has awarded you will half of the Black estate. While the actual vault is with a Mr R.J. Lupin's possession, you received a new shipment of gold. However, as in your parent's will, your trust vault merges with the Potter family vault to be ready for your use at your sixteenth birthday."

"And the Black money..."

"Will add a sizeable amount that will take an extra few months to finish transferring," the goblin finished. She smiled evilly. "Thank you for stopping in to get an update. Although I assumed your vault manager sent you a letter detailing what I told you, but I'm happy to help one of our vault owners."

"No no no," Harry stalled. "I need to withdraw some money."

"No," the goblin replied. "I detailed what's going on, and you're not getting in this summer."

"Come on!" pleaded Harry. "Just let me get a sack of Galleons or something!"

"No."

Sirius jumped off the goblin's desk and tapped Harry's shoulder. Harry didn't feel anything (No one else could either), but noticed his godfather trying to grab his attention.

"What?" he mouthed.

"Pies," Sirius said simply.

"What?" Harry repeated, out loud this time. His goblin teller and the three customers standing behind him looked at him like he was crazy. Personally, Harry didn't think that the other customers could judge (One was a pureblood snot, one had a handlebar moustache and the last had a glass eye).

"Say pies," Sirius repeated. "I have a theory to test. So move as close as you can to the goblin and whisper it."

Harry moved forward, placing both hands on the desk in front of him. Leaning in and ignoring the goblin's smell, he whispered in his most menacing tone of voice just one word: "Pies."

The goblin's eyes widened in shock, and she started to sweat. Harry kept his menacing face (And Severus Snape impersonation) on the whole time, and raised his eyebrows slightly.

"You heard me. My favourite pies have female goblins, you see. They're usually juicier, you see."

"You wouldn't!" the goblin said indignantly. "To do that would break the Goblin Rebellion Charter of 1872. You wouldn't dare."

"All I've got to lose is my vault," Sirius said. Harry repeated, adding, "And I'd still have my money for the dwarves in Zurich."

"No..." said the goblin.

"Yessss...." Harry hissed.

"Fine! I'll pull some strings and talk to your account manager. It'll take about a day for me to find the appropriate forms, another day to fill them out, another three days for the magic to set in. A week for the manager to get the forms, another two days for him to reply, maybe three if his workload is too high. Then it'll take two weeks for the form to be processed, and six days to stop the Galleon transfer. In three days after that, you'll be able to get into your vault."

"Five weeks?" Harry said disbelievingly.

"And two additional weeks to forge a new key, and two for it to be mailed to you-"

"PIES!"

The goblin shrieked, shattering the glass eye of the nearby customer. The wizard dropped like a stone, glass imbedded in his brain and blood pouring out of his eye and ears. Several others ran to the Floo to call St Mungo's. Harry gave the man barely a glance before turning to the goblin again.

"That's all I can do at the least, sir!" she exclaimed. "Don't pie me!"

Harry, fuming, left his scared goblin teller behind, Sirius following. Harry stepped over the bloodied man with a broken glass eye, and left the bank. He passed two Healers and pointed to the general area of the injured wizard, still fuming.

..::..--.--..::..

Using money stolen from Dung, Harry bought an ice cream at Florean Fortescue's, to drown his depression in a butterbeer flavoured cone. He sat on one of the chairs outside the store, as Sirius paced the area, spouting ideas.

"Break into Gringotts using the hair of Bellatrix Lestrange?"

"No."

"Break into Dumbledore's office and steal Gryffindor's Sword?"

"What use would that be?"

"Break into the Ministry and steal Umbridge's brooch?"

"She's homeless now. Remember?"

"Break into Malfoy Manor by getting captured, and in the process, you save the captured wandmaker, a goblin and one of your friends. Unfortunately, Dobby would die in the process. And in some roundabout way, the captured wandmaker would lead you to gaining an unbeatable wand."

No answer.

"Too contrived, got it."

Eventually, Harry decided to don his Invisibility Cloak and waltz into Knockturn Alley. Using Dung's wand and some Sirius-taught Glamour Charms, Harry masqueraded as a darker skinned teen with long blond hair, covering his scar sufficiently. The Boy-Who-Lived-In-Disguise found Borgin and Burkes easily using memories of his second year, and made his way inside.

What followed was a three minute negotiation to sell the silver necklace Harry found in Dung's pocket. Harry eventually needled Borgin into a reasonable price, especially after a repeat of the Gringotts' negotiation.

"Pies," Harry said warningly.

"How did you know?" Borgin pleaded. "Don't tell my wife what I do to myself, please."

Harry left Borgin and Burkes with a pocket full of gold, enough for him to purchase a tent to stay in and several other essentials. One such essential was a pricey removal of all of Harry's wand's charms and tracking devices. Another purchase was a new bag that was bottomless and could be shrunken at will, to hold all his loot. After that, Harry was ready to hit the open road, but there was still a roadblock.

"I still need more money," he moaned. "I need Portkeys, several books on Duelling and DADA, food and drink and god knows what else."

"Hmm..." Sirius hummed. "I think I've got an idea..."

Before Harry could hear Sirius' idea, he spotted Kingsley Shacklebolt down the street, asking around. Harry, still under glamour, walked by slowly to get to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Hi Harry," Kingsley greeted from behind. "Nice glamour, would've fooled me if you didn't walk so slowly and the scar wasn't that visible."

Harry turned to face him. "Hi Shack."

"Harry. So you busted out?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. How long did it take for you guys to find out?"

"Your aunt found Mundungus lying in a pool of his own blood. The wind blew off the Invisibility Cloak hiding him, and she contacted Mrs Figg."

Harry sighed. "That bitch knew how to get in contact with you?"

"Indeed she did."

"Oh," Harry said. He surreptitiously plunged his hand in his pocket and pulled out his wand. "_Concusso_!"

Harry didn't stick around to see if his Concussion Hex hit home, and ran into the Leaky Cauldron. He closed the entrance to Diagon Alley with a trashcan and a _Colloportus _spell.

"Run run run!" Sirius advised.

Harry, agreeing, ran through the pub and holed in behind a booth Sirius pointed too. He pulled out the Invisibility Cloak and put it on, also stealing a bottle of Firewhiskey from the nearby table. He did some transfiguring on a chair into a rough fishing rod, and tied the Firewhisky to it.

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it," Harry said, Disillusioning the rod and keeping the Firewhisky bottle visible.

Kingsley charged from the back entrance, wand out and looking flushed. He scanned the area, looking for Harry, but only found normal customers and a floating bottle of Firewhisky.

"Here fishy fishy," Harry murmured.

Kingsley looked at the bottle warily, before busting out a deep smile.

"Tom you old dog," Kingsley boomed, grabbing the bottle. "I'll need a little courage today. Now where is that Potter?" He took a few swigs, and walked out of the pub through the front entrance into the Muggle world.

Harry breathed a sigh in relief, abandoning the fishing rod. He took a seat, still invisible, and yawned.

"I'm tired. We need somewhere to camp for the night," he told Sirius.

"I know a good place. It'll be another trip on the Knight Bus, so no venturing to the third floor. When you wake up, I'll teach you the easy way to Apparate."

"No arguments here."

Harry began to leave the Leaky Cauldron, but the door opened and in entered a young woman his own age. A young woman with soft honey blonde with black streaks hair tied in a light ponytail and dark blue eyes. Harry immediately recognised Daphne Greengrass from his year at Hogwarts. Following Daphne was Kingsley again, holding an empty Firewhisky bottle.

"TOM!" he called drunkenly. "I need another."

"Never thought him as a lightweight drunk," commented Sirius.

Harry tried to avoid Kingsley, but the drunken Order member bumped into him and the Invisibility Cloak slid off enough to reveal the glamour-less Harry Potter. Harry started to panic when Kingsley's eyes widened in recognition.

"'Arry?" Kingsley slurred. "Aren't I supposed to capture you?"

Before Harry could act, someone else did it for him.

"_Accio Firewhisky_!" Daphne Greengrass called. A bottle flew from the shelf behind Tom's bar and Daphne caught it deftly. She uncorked it with another wand wave, and handed it to Kingsley. "Bill it to my father, Tom."

The barman nodded, and Kingsley thanked Daphne before taking a long swig of his newest bottle. He stumbled off in another direction, forgetting Harry's presence. Daphne smiled slightly and approached Harry.

"You owe me one," Daphne said, at the same moment Harry said, "I owe you one."

"Bill it to my father?" Harry said mockingly, smiling anyway.

"It works. You should try name-dropping sometime," Daphne replied, shrugging. "See you around."

"Same to you Daphne."

"Daphne is it?" she said lightly, raising an eyebrow. "See you then, Harry."

After she left, Sirius appeared at Harry's side as he bundled up the Invisibility Cloak.

"Nice girl?"

Harry nodded absentmindedly, leaving the Leaky Cauldron and out into the world beyond.

..::..--.--..::..

Sirius' camping spot was some isolated forest near Godric's Hollow, the old home of James and Lily Potter. It took half an hour for Harry to prepare the tent and ward it from Muggles and other unwelcome visitors. Thanks to Sirius, Harry was well prepared to do basic wards, or the wards that Sirius knew how to do. While Harry settled into the magically expanded tent, Sirius was thinking up some more crazy schemes for money. Like a blind monkey, he eventually peeled the skin off the banana and thought of a scheme.

"I've got it," he claimed. "It's the summer after the OWL's for you. And for the pureblood girls in your year, it's a very special time."

"What?" Harry questioned, mind racing at possible crazy pureblood customs, some even Death Eater related.

"It's the annual Pureblood Virginal Deflowering Season!" Sirius declared. "The old pureblood families had a custom of selling their daughters after they finish their OWL exams, and I know a loophole to get us some money."

"Really? It involves marriage contracts and that stuff, right?" Harry asked.

"More than that," Sirius confirmed. "This contracts usually have a Pureblood Virginal Deflowering clause, in which extra money is given for virgins. It happened with my cousin Narcissa. She got sold off to Malfoy after she took her OWLs, lost her virginity and was married to the snot by the time she was seventeen."

"But we have no money to buy some poor girl," Harry argued. "And I don't get your plan."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Virginal contracts involve the witch's family paying the wizard to deflower her as a mutually beneficial sign of good faith between the two families. And the wizard doesn't sign anything because he's not bound to a contract yet. After the deflowering, the wizard works out the marriage contract with the witch's family. And that's what we do."

"How?"

"Easy easy. Especially when we take the money from the witch's family, and break off the contracts. We still have the money, and you don't have to deflower the witch - unless you want to, of course - or marry her. If you're cunning, or you have me watching your back, you can avoid signing anything and be free and clear."

Harry got up and started to pace the magically expanded tent, deep in thought. Pros included the money received, but cons... Harry did not want to buy a Pansy Parkinson or Millicent Bulstrode, even if it was just for a scam. There was no need to go that far. And besides, Pansy probably wasn't a virgin. The jury was still out on Bulstrode.

"I'm still confused," Harry confessed. "We need help."

"Do we?" Sirius said mischievously, grinning like the madman he was, even after death.

..::..--.--..::..

Hours before Harry Potter and Sirius Black started to scheme in a tent pitched at Godric's Hollow, Albus Dumbledore sat and awaited reports from his Order members. It was a damn shame that this normal Wednesday would turn into such a disaster, and it started just as Dumbledore was getting ready to do some menial and tedious paperwork. Nevertheless, the old man was as optimistic as ever, humming a jaunty tune and sucking on a lemon-flavoured sweet with fervour.

"Dumbledore!" Arabella Figg called, using Dumbledore's Floo. "Petunia just found Mundungus Fletcher in a pool of his own blood! Harry has gone too, and his stuff has been taken."

"That indicates he left on his own accord," Dumbledore mused, not that deeply troubled. Harry would always try something like this, but he would probably come back. No reason to start a manhunt. "No reason to start a manhunt, Arabella. Call Kingsley and explain everything to him. Have him check Harry's haunts. Start with the Burrow, then Diagon Alley, and check the Knight Bus, especially the third floor. I have heard it's a good hiding place for the hopeless."

Arabella then left to relay Dumbledore's message. Dumbledore wrote a note about Harry's disappearance, and checked the state of Privet Drive's wards. They were still in good shape, he decided, and it wouldn't be a problem to keep them up.

Twenty minutes later, Dumbledore had Molly Weasley bust through the Floo without permission. Though she had the Order's password into his Floo, she hadn't asked to come through like a polite person would.

"ALBUS!" she yelled, face-a-red and hands-a-flying. "Shack just came over and told us that Harry did a runner! What's going on?"

"Nothing to be worried about yet, Molly," Dumbledore said placidly. "Harry is just experiencing a little rebellion, possibly for attention. I expected an incident like this, and decided that he would be easy enough to find with several tracking charms and alike. However, I'm taking a passive approach by just having one Order member looking for him. No reason to make a fuss yet."

"I trust your judgement Albus," Molly said finally, calming down immensely. "I found it a bit weird that Shack searched Ginny's room very thoroughly. I may be getting older, but I thought that Harry had no interest in hiding in there. And my Ginny looks a bit too much Lily Potter to be someone Harry could be attracted to."

"Love is mysterious," Dumbledore said sagely. Molly nodded in agreement with him before leaving through the Floo.

A few minutes later, a Healer and Order member by the name of Elaine Fawcett came tumbling out of Dumbledore's Floo, splattered with blood on her regulation green Healer robes.

Dumbledore barely bat an eye before asking, "Good afternoon Elaine, how are you today? And who's blood is decorating your robes?

Elaine gave him a weird look before noticing the blood on her robes. "Didn't see that," she muttered. "Albus, I just ran into Harry Potter outside of Gringotts. A man was in a glass eye related mutilation, and Harry was leaving the bank just as I entered. He pointed me to where the injury was! And, Albus, he was talking to himself down the street, I swear it! Isn't he supposed to be with the Muggles?"

"True," Dumbledore replied. "I believe your tale Elaine, and good diligence on your part for reporting this incident. I have it all under control. Thank you."

Elaine left, and Dumbledore ripped right back into his menial paperwork. That Harry Potter business wasn't a big deal, really. Just an annoyance.

"Albus!" It was Mad-Eye Moody this time, limping through the non-fireplace entrance to Dumbledore's office. "I popped into the Floo ten minutes ago, and you were still staring at the desk! Have you been staring at the same spot for ten minutes?"

"Have I?"

"Possibly. So what's going on with Potter?" Moody asked testily.

"Nothing to be concerned with, Alastor," Dumbledore said. "I'm not feeling in an explaining mood, and I'm sure Kingsley or Arabella or Molly or even Petunia Dursley could explain perfectly fine."

Moody grunted and hobbled over to the fireplace. He was muttering about 'crazy old coots' and 'overly calm morons' as he travelled through the emerald flames, but Dumbledore paid him no mind.

An hour or so later, Bill Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt came through the Floo.

"Professor," Bill greeted. It was now that Dumbledore noticed Kingsley was unconscious and missing a few pieces of clothing. "I found him like this in the Leaky Cauldron, drunk as hell. Apparently, he was in and out of the pub, looking for Harry Potter, and he got quite sloshed in the process."

"Hmm..." Dumbledore hummed calmly. Was it just him, or were the walls purple?

"Albus?" Bill asked worriedly. "Kingsley's waking up."

"Hmm."

Kingsley was in fact waking up, and he started speaking/slurring immediately. "Alb-usss! I went and rode the Knight Bus on the third floor! It was wicked what they did when I started throwing around money! Didn't find Harry though. Got any booze?"

And he promptly fell asleep again.

"Oh my," Dumbledore said, not even standing up or changing from his ever serene look. "Well, send him down to Madam Pomfrey from the night, Mr Weasley. Then head off and get some sleep for the night. I will be."

Bill Weasley only stared as Dumbledore leaned his head back against his chair and fell asleep instantly. Now in a room with two sleeping senior Order members, he only had one choice in the matter. He levitated Kingsley down to the Hospital Wing and passed him off to Poppy Pomfrey, and left the castle and returned to his hot girlfriend at home.

An hour later, Madam Pomfrey was met by Professor Sprout, who was frantic and covered in a mysterious green goo.

"Poppy!" she cried.

"Good god, Pomona! Are you covered in-"

"Mandrake excrement!" Sprout wailed. "The Extreme Calming Draught you gave me for the mandrakes failed! They started excreting waste at an alarming rate. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you gave me an Anti-Constipation Potion instead!"

"Uh oh," Pomfrey said in a small voice. "I gave you those potions right before I was going to give Albus his weekly Anti-Constipation Potions! So you got that potion and Albus got- OH MY GOD!"

It would take a week for the effects of Albus' accidental calm attack to wear off, and the hunt for Harry Potter was postponed. In unrelated news, mandrake excrement made excellent skin moisturiser!

..::..--.--..::..

To be continued in Chapter 2...

..::..--.--..::..


	2. Dealing with and against Death Eater's

Disclaimer :: All things Harry Potter are owned by JK Rowling, and it would be quite an insult to her if I were to claim them as my own wouldn't it? _¡No es mina!_

'Tis The Season of Summertime

Written by Matt Silver

Sandwiches, goblins and bloodsuckers and Greengrasses, oh my!

..::..--.--..::..

Rated justly thanks to coarse language, crude humour, crude sexual related humour, sexual references, violence and infant alcohol use (Infant = Sad, lonely, pathetic and maybe impotent. Seriously, I don't condone alcohol for infants, unless they really want it and the parents consent it). Do not take this fic too seriously, it's a little crack-like. Suspension of disbelief is required sometimes. Canon up until book 5, all AU from there.

..::..--.--..::..

On the previous adventure... Harry's Occlumency training manifested as his own godfather, back from the grave and in Harry's head. Now shielded by and from insanity, Harry busted out of Privet Drive and tried to get some money so he could leave the country. Getting money turned out to be a dead-end, so our intrepid heroes were ready to do some scheming and get the money required. Meanwhile, Dumbledore has been accidentally poisoned with an Extreme Calming Draught, and his hunt for Harry has been delayed...

Chapter 2 :: Dealing with and against Death Eaters

..::..--.--..::..

Upon waking up the next morning, Harry was immediately put to work by Sirius, who started to train him in basic duelling techniques. Given that Sirius was basically a ghost that didn't look non corporeal, he couldn't do much in the way of real duelling, but he could still swing his arms and legs and have Harry avoid them anyway. And if Harry got hit by one of Sirius' little attacks, Sirius would use his powers as an Occlumency shield and give Harry a moment of self-angst.

"CHO!!!!" Harry cried, dropping to his knees. "WHY DID WE HAVE TO BREAK UP?"

Sirius, sniggering like the madman/post death Occlumency shield he was, eventually relented, leaving Harry on the ground an angsty mess.

"You motherfucking prick," Harry cursed, standing up after a moment. "New rule - you don't mess with my head."

"That's what you said last time," Sirius dismissed. "Bend your knees a bit as you move. It's a slight duck, but it can be off putting to the regular moronic Death Eater. Use Concussion and Tripping Hexes when duel dancing like this. The two have a large wave of magical energy involved, making them easier to aim."

Harry and Sirius began their little duelling session, Harry successfully landing a wide-arc of purple energy at Sirius' left leg. Without missing a beat, Sirius fake stumbled to indicate what would happen in a real fight, and Harry used a Concussion Hex with high power, smashing through Sirius' upper chest and head area.

"Instant kill," he claimed. "If you were using a Concussion Hex with that much power, you'd probably kill your opponent at really close quarters. That was good. Let's try again."

After the Tripping and Concussing exercises, Harry spent an hour charming plates to dive bomb him, while he would use Stunners and Reductors to destroy them. Sirius also taught him how several spells could have varying strengths on smaller or bigger targets. Stunners were more effective on smaller objects (With even explosive results), and Reductors were better used on large objects for more general damage and destruction.

It was after this training session that Harry took a trip to Godric's Hollow's only wizarding Floo, located in the basement of the local pub. He arrived in Diagon Alley by late morning, and quickly bought a _Daily Prophet_ at Sirius' request. Surprisingly, news of his disappearance from the Dursleys was not front page material.

"Are you disappointed?" Sirius asked, as the two made their way back to their tent from the pub after Flooing back. "No attention?"

"Quit it," Harry replied. "I'm surprised more than anything. What could possibly be delaying Dumbledore in starting a manhunt?"

"Some kind of accident?" Sirius wondered. "Potion related?"

"Whatever it is, it's incredibly lucky for me," Harry mused.

However, some interesting news became second page material.

"Death Eaters captured," Harry read. "Marcus Flint, Felix Jugson and London Stiller were all caught for drunk and disorderly conduct, where it was then revealed that they were Marked by the Dark Lord. Minister Fudge assures the reporters for the _Daily Prophet _that all measures are being taken, and that more captures like this one and the Department of Mysteries break-in are expected to follow."

"What a crock of bullshit," Sirius said helpfully.

Harry shook his head and turned into the rest of the paper. No reason to worry about Fudge's antics when he had a plot to... plot.

"Anyway, what am I looking for?"

"Classifieds," Sirius replied, checking out the local scenery of Godric's Hollow. And by local scenery, he was checking out a young woman getting her mail. "Hey good looking-"

"She can't hear you," Harry chided, finally finding the classifieds section. "And I'm immensely glad you can't posses my body."

"Yet," Sirius reminded.

"Yet," Harry agreed. "Oh I see it - they have huge ads for Pureblood marriage contracts. Never saw that before."

"It's a bit of a boring read really," Sirius said sadly. "Pictures of the merchandise aren't printed, so the unlucky shopper has to open up negotiations before even meeting the witch in question. I think that's how Lestrange got stuck with Bellatrix, not that I feel sorry for him. Or her."

"Oh okay. Here - pureblood, aged seventeen, Virgin Deflowering Clause not to be included in the contract. Not her then. Pureblood, aged sixteen, looking for connection to wealthy family of high status. Please owl the Parkinsons- no way. Oh, here's a funny one: forty-three year old woman of high social and elegant grace, requesting a new suitor from one of the wealthiest pureblood families. Married only seven times, all husbands died of mysterious circumstances. Please contact Adelle Fleuret-Stirborg-Stinger-Flamberge-Parkinson-Flyssa-Zabini for more information."

"Oh I remember Adelle Fleuret," Sirius said wistfully. "She tried seducing me when I was in first year to get my family's money, and only years later did I find out what a great opportunity I passed up."

"Sirius, you were eleven. And she was probably going to kill you later."

"Whatever," Sirius dismissed. "She's a nice choice Harry, but the Virgin Deflowering Clause isn't going to apply to her obviously. Another one then."

Harry scanned the classifieds for a further ten minutes, learning that it was mostly an outlet for pureblood bartering. Selling dark artefacts and disputes over land were printed, and Harry only found them mildly interesting. However, Sirius soon found Harry's target.

"Bingo!"

"No way, Sirius. Not going to do that," Harry protested. "No Parkinson, no Bulstrode, and no one who doesn't deserve it. They were the ground rules."

"Why not Daphne Greengrass?" Sirius questioned. "The Greengrasses are not Death Eaters personified, and they've been desperate for status since they lost their money back in the 60's to illegal hedgehog farms. And I think Remus mentioned that they've been gathering enough money to sell their daughters rather well. Hell, they could probably get into a deal with the Malfoys if need be."

"But-"

"She's pretty, right? And we've been over this, Harry. You don't have to do anything stupid if you don't want to. Just make contact, get the money, and get out!"

"But... she helped me out before at the Leaky Cauldron," Harry argued weakly.

"And before that, have you ever had any talky talk with her?" Sirius inquired.

Harry remembered back to his encounters with Miss Greengrass. First year, he held a door open for her into Potions class, and she twitched her lips a little in a slight smile. Second year, she gave him a funny look when rumours of him being Slytherin's Heir started to spread, but didn't seem frightened. Fourth year, Harry ran into her under his Cloak, and she was talking to a random house elf, so he ignored it. She never wore a POTTER STINKS badge or was part of Pansy Parkinson's bitch gang to his recollection, and regularly kept off his radar apparently.

"Not really," Harry admitted. "As you probably saw in my head."

"So apart from little run ins that could have happened with any of your classmates, she's basically a nobody to you," Sirius summed up. "Except that little flirting in the Leaky Cauldron, you have no reason to feel guilty for scheming her. And besides, you would be under disguise! Did I not mention that?"

"I don't remember," Harry said, racking his thoughts. "All right, let's go write a letter and arrange a meeting. I'll need to go get Hedwig from Hermione-"

"No you shouldn't," Sirius said abruptly. "She's rather identifiable, and the Greengrasses are neutral at best. Wouldn't put it past them to have Hedwig on their watch lists to sell you out to Voldemort. And then Voldemort gets you, and the torture begins! The knives, the curses, the blood, the guts, the mol-"

"I get it!" Harry snapped.

..::..--.--..::..

Sirius helped Harry compose a letter to the Greengrass family, responding to the ad in the _Daily Prophet_ and asking for a meeting to talk money. The letter was filled with pureblood double talk, such as constant flattery and gloating about blood status. Sirius picked out Harry's disguise as an ageing baron from the Terwilliger family, a family of pureblood oil tycoons from Canada. Some morally grey magic was used to fake the Terwilliger's magical signature at the bottom of the letter, as picked up from Sirius from a Marauder scheme back in 1974.

"You see," he explained, as Harry practised the spell required. "We hit a roadblock in our Animagus-related potions, and needed some questionable ingredients for the recipe we made and copied. James faked Terwilliger's signature to write to the Rosier's and get some of their illegally owned stuff. All it cost was a hundred Galleons and a month of research."

"That's it?" Harry said disappointingly. "You just learnt a spell and wrote a letter. Nothing funny happened in between?"

"No, the funny thing happened before. Peter lost one of our rigged coin tosses and had to take one of our experimental potions first, before we contacted the Rosier's. The poor bastard was walking with a rat tail all week, and I believe that's the real reason he turned to Voldemort. Why else?" Sirius said, grinning despite his extreme hate for the rat.

After sending off the letter to the Greengrass family with a post owl, Harry set about training with Sirius once more, for lack of anything better to do. Sirius was teaching him the basics of Apparation, and the basics of not splinching. Two uneventful days passed before an enthusiastic reply came back from the Greengrasses.

"Dear Baron Terwilliger, blah blah blah, pureblood sucking up, I want to suck you off because the blood pumping would be pure blood blah blah, oh! Here we go," Sirius said, scanning the parchment in Harry's hands. "Perhaps a mid morning Sunday tea and the Greengrass world-famous scones would suit your fancy for the meeting. We would be willing to start negotiations as soon as possible."

"Good news," Harry said optimistically.

"Great news. Send a reply. Tell them we'll be there."

..::..--.--..::..

Harry checked himself over in the mirror once more, resisting the urge to groan. Sirius' disguise for him wasn't the least bit flattering or funny to him (But it was to Sirius), but it would have to do. He was wearing shoes with extra height build in, long black robes with the Terwilliger crest sewn on (A copy from a book on Ancient Families), and with a high collar, casting a shadow over the back of his neck. His face was given the usual pureblood makeover - a stronger jaw and transfigured glasses, dark grey eyes and sharp straight brown hair.

"Baron Terwilliger," greeted Laurel Greengrass, curtseying politely with no emotion. Harry locked a beady stare at the Greengrass matriarch, nodded once and held out his ring hand.

"Lady Greengrass," he said stonily. The first step in Sirius Black's guide to pureblood ass-kissing was to suck up to the wife when the husband wasn't around. "I am impressed by your manor and yourself. Truly you are the embodiment of one with the purest of bloods."

Mrs Greengrass kissed his ring (A transfigured rock), and gestured beyond the foyer of Greengrass Manor. "Right this way, my husband and daughter are waiting in the parlour with the tea and scones."

"Prepared by many house elves I hope?" Harry asked.

"Many indeed, all treated as they should," Mrs Greengrass agreed, putting a bit of emphasis on the 'should'.

"Good," Harry said silkily. "I would hope that I would not be entering talks with a family that did things the ways of the Mudblood."

That and all following lines were scripted by Sirius Black earlier that morning, who knew enough about pureblood culture to get around a good old fashioned 'Mudbloods bad, purebloods good' talk.

Mrs Greengrass led him into a well prepared area for light snacks and serious conversations. The parlour was large and overshadowed by a huge chandelier, and loaded with decorations of green and silver. Slytherin to the end, it seemed. Harry took the seat gestured by Mrs Greengrass, with all the grace he could. Well as much grace as someone in his position could. If it wasn't for Sirius' presence in his mind, he would've collapsed into the chair without a second thought.

It was after sitting down that Harry immediately met Lord Viridian-Lawn Greengrass, sitting with his wife on one side and his daughter... not there?

"Where might your daughter be, Lord Greengrass?" Harry inquired in a booming voice.

"Daphne is just in the hall, preparing to meet you, Baron," Lord Greengrass said smoothly. "If it would please you, maybe we would go over the contract with some tea and scones?"

"I'd rather not indulge myself," Harry said snootily. "Now young Daphne is of sixteen years of age, correct? And she has finished her OWLs at your Hogwarts school?"

"Yes on both accounts Baron," Lord Greengrass replied. "I have a friend inside the OWL testing department, and he was willing to give Daphne's results early, as I have here." He handed over the parchment, and Harry took a read. Daphne had scored exceptionally high in Charms and Astronomy classes, with Outstandings in several others. However, Harry was really surprised to see she get lower than an Acceptable.

"Impressive. Young Daphne is of an intellect rarely seen in this backwater island it seems. Now that I have my questions answered, I would like to meet her, to see if she is of good grace and elegance." Somewhere, outside the room, Harry thought he heard a ladylike snort.

"All the things a young pureblood lady should be," Lord Greengrass said. He sent his wife to go get Daphne, who arrived a minute later. Cue Harry's jaw dropping.

"Oh my," he blurted.

"Focus!" Sirius screamed, turning up Harry's smoothness levels the best he could.

Daphne Greengrass appeared to be a radically different girl than the one Harry met in the Leaky Cauldron a few days ago. Her light ponytail was gone, replaced with wavy and cascading honey blonde hair. Harry noticed her blackish hair streaks had also disappeared curiously, and her eyes were a more steely grey than before. Instead of wearing simple robes, she was wearing a long black and pink gown showing all kinds of curves Harry had never seen before. Again, jaw dropping.

And certain other organs were pumping, but hey, thank god for loose robes!

"Daphne," Lord Greengrass started, as Harry stood up and bowed to her. "This is Baron Ulysses Lionel Larson Siegfried Harrison Ishmael Terwilliger."

"Charmed," Daphne said politely, sounding a bit more posh than she did in the Leaky Cauldron. Harry was definitely confused, but kissed the back of her hand anyway and kept a stony impression.

"You may call me Baron Terwilliger or Bullshit, whatever you please," Harry simpered. Judging by the look on Daphne's face, she had figured out the acronym for the Baron's full title. Upon reading the name in the book Sirius found him, Harry had quite a laugh. It was so funny, and yet, no self-respecting pureblood would call a rich Baron out on his funny and possibly insulting name. Also, judging by the looks on the Greengrass parent's faces, they hadn't noticed it yet.

"Thank you Baron."

As soon as Daphne sat down, the talks began. Harry found himself agreeing with most of the Greengrass' pureblood customs and conditions, and decided to sweeten the pot.

"If Daphne were to produce more than three heirs, I would be willing to name the fourth as a Greengrass heir, to keep your political connections in this country," he offered. "It is in my best interests to have my newest connection living on through name as best they can."

"Thank you, Baron. You are most gracious," Lord Greengrass said, almost smiling beneath his steel-hard gaze.

"I do have one condition, though," Harry commanded. Now was the time to put his and Sirius' scheme within a scheme into play. Best case scenario, he got more money. Worst case scenario, he still got money, but not more than usual. "To add one of my heirs as a Greengrass in name would require some extra compensation you see. Instead of taxing you later, I am willing to receive extra gold now, as part of the Virgin Deflowering Clause. After seeing the fine specimen that is your daughter, I would be willing to accept that."

"Extra gold now in exchange for another heir to our name?" Lord Greengrass mused. He smirked slightly. "We of course have a deal on that regard, Baron Terwilliger!"

"Excellent," Harry said, a little more jovial than his persona should be. "Excellent. Now perhaps we shall talk numbers, and I will enact the clause when we decide upon an amount that I will receive. After I deflower your daughter, we will be signing a contract I believe Lord Greengrass."

"Good good," Lord Greengrass agreed. Beside him, his wife was nodding furiously, while Daphne was staring at her tea. Feeling Harry's gaze on her, she pulled out her wand and seemingly pointed it at her teacup. Her father shot her an annoyed look. "Daphne dear?"

"The tea was getting cold, father," Daphne replied, still looking at the drink in question.

Lord Greengrass nodded. "Would you care to get to know Baron Terwilliger better-"

"Please, Lord Greengrass, my allied families call me Bullshit."

"Would you care to get to know Bullshit better while myself and your mother figure out a number and contact Gringotts immediately?"

"Yes, father," Daphne obeyed.

"Gringotts?" Harry inquired. "Funny little creatures... goblins... is it true they get cooked in pies?"

Daphne's parents left the room without acknowledging Harry's comment, and Harry involuntarily relaxed a little. A tense moment followed, and Harry decided to acknowledge the other person in the room. When he locked eyes with her, she smirked and shrugged.

"Drop the act, Harry."

Harry's jaw dropped. and he noticed his fellow student's eyes were lightening somewhat. "How did you-"

Daphne held up a finger to shush him. "Lanky!" she whispered softly.

A runty house elf appeared, wearing a black jacket and matching pants in lieu of a tea towel or a ratty sheet. The elf bowed at Daphne before coming forward.

"Yes Miss?"

"Can you make sure we are not overheard, Lanky? Please?" Daphne asked kindly. Harry also noticed her voice was softening and losing its snooty tone.

Lanky the elf nodded and disappeared with a POP. Daphne turned back to Harry and pulled out her wand again.

"I used a few charms to see through that glamour when I 'warmed' the tea," Daphne informed him. She pointed her wand at her chest area, and Harry couldn't help but breathe in a bit. And stare. She waved her wand and muttered something. Instantly the extra lift in the chest disappeared, and she breathed deeply. "Thank god."

Harry shifted nervously. "Daphne? Uh, what now?"

"Now I catch my breath," she said. "Mother put me in a freaking corset and applied several charms to choke my lungs on the inside and give me the chest of Padma and Parvati Patil combined on the outside. I need a second here, and you can maybe explain what scam you're pulling. I mean, seriously, Bullshit?"

"Yes it is," Harry agreed. He noticed Sirius was absent from this conversation, but ploughed on anyway. "I'm here to..."

"Earn some money from the Deflowering Clause loophole," she guessed.

"That easy, huh?" Harry said sheepishly.

"For me," Daphne said, smiling. "But then again, I'm not my desperate parents. They've been looking for some family attention since I was born. And my little sister Astoria is being pampered into thinking she'll be married to that Malfoy snot when she's my age, and my parents are oblivious."

"Must be fun," Harry said lightly. "Let me guess - you seem to disprove of being sold like a Pansy Parkinson?"

"Did you see how my mother dressed me up? Compare that to when you ran into me at the Leaky Cauldron. And the posh voices? My god, that kills to keep up. I actually spent three years learning to speak less like a posh princess and more like the only un-pureblood voice I heard the most."

"Who?"

"Hermione Granger. If I had a Sickle for every time she spoke up in the three classes I have with her, I'd have enough to shove them down her throat and quiet her."

Harry nodded in agreement. "The black hair streaks? Dyed or natural?"

"Natural," Daphne answered, frowning. "Mother is under the delusion that pure honey blonde hair is the sign of pure purebloodedness of purity."

"I liked the black," Harry murmured.

"And the fake OWL results..."

Harry snorted. "Figured that, no offence. I didn't think it was possible to get higher than an Acceptable in Potions."

"True," Daphne conceded. "I know I at least got a Poor on three subjects... at least."

"A bad ploy on your parent's part though."

"Now it's my turn to ask the questions. Why do you need money so badly? Ever heard of Gringotts?"

Harry debated internally whether or not to tell her. She probably would do something to harm him otherwise, right?

"Parent's will," he told her. "Move trust vault contents into Potter family vault. It's shut for the summer from me. This was my only option."

"Oh?" Daphne laughed, raising an eyebrow (A gesture Harry thought was rather cute, by the way). "And why did you need the money so badly?"

"Holiday," Harry said simply. "Fuck off England, hello fun summer overseas."

Daphne smiled. "It's your turn for a question."

"Why haven't you like killed me or turned me over to your parents for impersonating this Bullshit guy?" Harry asked.

"Because as soon as I figured out who you were, I wanted in on your scheme and besides, you owe me one. I need the money, anyway."

"For what?"

"Emancipation," Daphne said simply. "Fuck off Greengrasses, hello non-Death Eater life. I've been working on that for several years, and you're a good opportunity to avoid that."

"A-what?" Harry said dumbly. "Your family are Death Eaters?"

"Our family is desperate," Daphne corrected. "They don't know You-Know-Who's got the right idea, but they want to be on the winning side. I don't want that. Neutrality is underrated."

"Hmm..."

"Hmm is about right," Daphne said, nodding.

Sirius finally appeared to Harry's side, smiling calculatingly. "You've made your choice. Trust her or not. Go wild."

Sirius was right; Harry had made his choice. What was there to lose? Quite a bit, but Harry was going to stay positive for once. "What's your plan right now?" he asked.

Daphne seemingly realised Harry had come to a decision regarding her plan and his own, and aimed her wand at her crotch area. "In a few minutes my parents will be back and you're going to demand more money."

"How would I go about that?" Harry questioned.

"I'm casting a spell now," Daphne answered, waving her wand in between indistinct murmurs. "To make it appear like I'm not a virgin for twenty minutes or so. Every spell or potion to test the status of my virginity will say it's gone. Now, when my parents come in..."

"I'll demand some more gold to compensate the fact you're not really a virgin," Harry finished. "Fun fun."

"Good," Daphne claimed. "And if this works, I'll be taking the extra money from this extra scheme."

Spell finished, Daphne rearranged herself to her previous appearance as a young and cold pureblood witch, the Ice Queen. Harry schooled his features back to Baron Terwilliger's signature stone-hard gaze, but added a touch of anger to it. Suddenly, Mr and Mrs Greengrass came in through the nearest doors, and Harry stood up in a rage.

"Greengrass! I demand more compensation!"

..::..--.--..::..

After leaving Greengrass Manor, Harry took a quick trip to Diagon Alley using his new skills of Apparation to procure more food for the day. The trip to Greengrass Manor and the subsequent scheming left him tired and hungry, but his monetary compensation wouldn't arrive until the next Wednesday (Coincidentally, that day was also Harry's birthday). Daphne's plot worked perfectly enough, and Harry would quite the rich man before he split the gold with his female accomplice. However, he feared that the money wouldn't come quick enough, especially after buying some food and using up the rest of Dung's money to do so.

"We're out," he moaned. Sirius, walking alongside him, nodded sympathetically.

"Shit happens," he said wisely. Or as wise as one can sound when being vulgar about it. "Plan?"

Harry thought it over. Short of stealing more money or food, he really had jack all in the way of options. "Back to the Dursleys then," he joked aloud.

Sirius was about to say something snarky, but was interrupted by Harry jumping in the Leaky Cauldron's Floo and travelling to Godric's Hollow. Sirius didn't show up until Harry was half way back to the tent, and he seemingly forgot about the food conversation. Random tidbits came up, and Harry didn't reply.

"Huh, I've never heard birds make that sound before..." and "Are they fucking?"

The two were nearing the tent when Harry noticed a small rustle on the ground nearing the forest border. He spotted a small brown creature, and so did Sirius.

"RAT!" he screamed. Harry didn't need to be told twice - it might be Pettigrew after all. So he pulled out his wand and started blasting the ground around the rat with Trip Jinxes and Concussion Hexes. The rat squeaked and ran like hell, ducking and dodging Harry's wide arcs of energy. Luckily, a Trip Jinx eventually made contact, sweeping the rat off its feet. In desperation, the rat transformed back into Peter Pettigrew.

"RAT!" Harry screamed, blasting Peter with a Concussion Hex. The traitor went down piteously, clutching his stomach. Thanks to Harry, Peter's next bowel movement would be incredibly painful.

"Harry!" Peter wheezed. "Harry, my boy, perhaps you should not be so hasty-"

"_Reducto!_" Harry shouted, his spell ricocheting off the ground next to Peter and creating a hole. "No talking, rat."

"Harry-"

"_Reducto!_" Harry repeated, at the exact moment Peter, quick as a flash, pulled his wand and sent a Shield Charm at the ground Harry aimed at. As a result, Harry's Reductor bounced off of the shield and into a nearby tree, which promptly exploded.

"_CONCUSSO! CONFRINGO! STUPEFY!_" Harry called as the tree went down. Peter had already taken the chance to transform it seemed, as there was no sign of the rat to be found. "Dammit!"

Sirius had already ran up ahead, walking through trees as he did so. "He's gone! I can't find him. Fuck!"

Unbeknownst to Harry and Sirius, Peter did in fact transform back into a rat but was almost crushed by the falling tree. Known to both Harry and Sirius was that Stunners had explosive powers on smaller objects, and Peter did not know that fact. As such, he learnt the hard way when Harry's spell connected his rat's feet, blasting them off and sending him flying across the forest. Upon landing awkwardly, it would take Peter Pettigrew several hours to bleed out and die.

And Harry and Sirius wouldn't know that for a while.

"So, we have to move the tent," Harry said seriously, running back to it. "Peter could be bringing Voldemort any second now."

"I know," Sirius hissed. "That fucking rat. I'll kill him."

"You don't have a body," Harry said tiredly. He and Sirius reached the tent and started to pack it up hastily. "Where next?"

"I don't know, I'll think of something," Sirius said reassuringly.

Harry just rolled his eyes, put the shrunken tent back in its bag, and mounted his Firebolt.

"Let's figure something out."

Several minutes of flying randomly later...

"That's it!" Sirius said excitedly. "You can go live off your friends for a bit. The ones not directly involved with Dumbledore, that is."

"Oh okay," Harry said sarcastically. "So... no one else?"

"Hermione," Sirius reminded his godson. "Hermione is in the Muggle world at the moment, Harry. And she's a bit more sympathetic than you give her credit. And, I'm pretty sure she has no contact with Dumbledore about you, if my summer last year was anything to go by. Before she got to Grimmauld, she wasn't in touch with the Order at all."

"And she has food," said Harry.

"And she has food."

So, the next morning found the tent set up in the backyard of the Granger home. A few spells rendered Harry and Sirius' presence invisible to Muggles, and Harry had left Hermione a note on her windowsill. Now, he and Sirius would play the waiting game...

"HARRY!" Hermione shrieked, appearing at the entrance of the tent.

"Thank Merlin for Silencing Charms," Harry murmured. "Hello, Hermione. Good holiday? That's great, listen, I need a little food, 'cause my camping trip is kind of incomplete without some kind of food. Pretty please?"

"What the heck have you been thinking?" she snapped, ignoring him completely. "Leaving Privet Drive, assaulting Kingsley-"

"Word travels fast, it seems," Harry mused. "What's been done about me though? Hermione, have they started a manhunt yet?"

"-running away! How could you even THINK about-"

"Easy! It's really easy to think about it."

"Assaulting an Order member! Also-"

"Hermione is a bushy haired know-it-all, Hermione is a bushy haired know-it-all, Hermione-"

"Using magic during the summer! Illegal!"

"-is a bushy haired know-it-all, Hermione is a bushy haired-"

"I AM NOT! Harry, are you even listening to me?"

Eventually, Harry calmed her down enough and she procured some eggs for him to cook up on the stove inside the tent. Over burnt eggs, the two discussed Harry's getaway.

"How?" was Hermione's first question. But since it was Hermione, Harry was quiet until she asked her next three. "Why? When? How?"

"How? Easy, I broke Dung's nose and took the Knight Bus. Got tracking charms removed from my wand," Harry boasted. It was a trait he picked up from Sirius in his mind meddling. "Why? Why not? I need a holiday, and I escaped on Wednesday, but I think you knew that."

Hermione pinked. "I did. And I think you might need a holiday now that Sirius..."

"You're right," Harry replied. "Sirius is a big reason for this little holiday. More than you think."

"More than she would ever comprehend," Sirius added.

"More than you would-"

"Harry!"

Hermione looked confused. "More than I'd understand, Harry? That's probably true... but I'm here for you."

"Good," Harry smiled. "And I kind of need food for a bit before my ticket out of the country comes along."

"Where are you headed?"

"I don't know yet," Harry admitted. "Wherever Sirius would think was a good idea. Somewhere tropical perhaps..."

"Somewhere tropical sounds good," Hermione remarked. "I can get you some things to keep you alive for a bit, if you promise me a few things."

"Shoot."

"Tell Dumbledore you're leaving the country and will be back for sixth year," Hermione said testily. "I gather you don't like the Headmaster, but a little heads up would be good wouldn't it? He would worry about you."

"And ten points to Miss Oblivious," Sirius snorted.

"He would," Harry said slowly and a little sarcastically. Thankfully, Hermione didn't pick up on it.

"And... condition two is that you stay safe, Harry. I mean, Voldemort will be after you right? So stay safe."

"Can do," Harry assured. Hermione smiled and headed back to her house to get some more food. While she was gone, Harry started to wonder about his Voldemort problem. Sure, with Sirius' training, overwhelming positivity and maybe some horrifying luck, he might even survive his next encounter with the Dark Lord! But while he wanted to relax this summer, he needed Voldemort occupied. He needed the Dark Lord to be under pressure...

"I've got something," Sirius said, reading Harry's mind. "We hire someone to take care of Voldemort's little minions for a bit."

"No money yet," Harry reminded. "And even then, I don't think we'll have enough for hiring mercenaries."

"Who said anything about paying in gold?" Sirius asked cryptically.

"Why are you always the one with the crazy plan?" Harry countered.

"Hey, I can't leave your head or do things the normal Sirius Black could do with an issue of _Playwizard _and some boredom, so I have to think. About stuff."

About what kind of stuff Sirius thought of Harry didn't want to know, and he thanked whatever god out there that Sirius couldn't posses his body and take control of his manly functions. Harry guessed that would be a sticky situation he wouldn't want to be in for sure.

Hermione returned with the food a minute later. In her hands was a large assortment of healthy food coming from her dentist family, and some sugar free snacks.

"Yay for no sugar," Sirius pouted.

To Harry's delight, Hermione had added the right kind of bread, meat, cheese and condiments to make his perfect sandwich. And he would as soon as he could!

"Hermione, I need a favour," Harry requested after packing away the food Hermione got him. "Are you still holding Rita Skeeter's job hostage?"

"Yes," she said hesitantly. "She's still being a good little witch for now. Why? Going to star in another article for the Quibbler? Endorsing Crumple-Horned Snorcacks and Fiery Heilopaths? Whatever they were called..."

"No no," Harry denied laughingly. "I've got a letter for her. Send it to her, and tell her to follow my instructions and to not step out of line. It's a letter requesting her to slam our dear Minister Fudge for denying Sirius a trial, especially when it came to light with the capture and interrogation of Lucius Malfoy that Peter Pettigrew was alive and Sirius died protecting me. I'm not sure if Lucius really gave Peter up, but I've fed it to Skeeter. Hope she runs with it."

Harry handed her the letter, and she nodded.

"Sounds reckless, but I'm tired," Hermione said. "Hedwig will be back from the Weasleys soon, and I'll send it off then."

"And this," Harry told her. He quickly scribbled a few words onto a scrap of paper, and handed it to her. "It's my letter to Dumbledore."

"You're insane," Hermione stated, scanning the small letter. "But you're my best friend anyway."

"Hey, if I'm insane, what does that make you? Being friends with an insane man anyway... pfft."

The two bantered back and forth for a bit, until Hedwig finally swooped into the tent and dropped a letter in Hermione's lap. From there, the snowy owl immediately swooped her owner and began hooting indignantly.

"She's not that bad, Hedwig," Harry defended, honestly having no idea what Hedwig was saying. "I know I know, she can be a bit insufferable-"

"Shut up Harry," Hermione growled. "Ron's reply has something you should hear: Percy Weasley has reunited with the Weasleys."

"Care factor? What next, Fred and George started their joke shop? Bill and Fleur are engaged? Ginny is writing to Dean Thomas but Ron is all angry about that? My god, those people are so predictable," Harry said fondly. His life at Hogwarts had taught him to enjoy the predictable and boring for as long as possible, so that explained why he liked the Weasleys so much.

"No no," Hermione replied. "Percy claims to be put under the Imperius Curse by a short, stubby man with one fleshy hand."

"Wormtail," Harry and Sirius (who appeared randomly) growled.

"You guessed it," said Hermione. "A little Veritaserum from Moody confirmed that Percy has no clue about what happened over the past month, after the Department of Mysteries battle. But the Imperius is apparently gone."

"Why would Wormtail do that?" Harry questioned. "Break it off and not do anything? Not kill anyone using Percy, not undergo some massive scheme to break out the captured Death Eaters? Seems kinda useless."

"Seems like he was after attention," Sirius theorised. "Think about it. He breaks off the curse on Percy Weasley, who comes back to the Weasleys and word reaches you that he was responsible."

"He wanted attention?" Harry mouthed in surprise. "That's your big idea?"

"Who wanted attention? Who's big idea?" Hermione interrupted, but she was ignored.

"I think the lack of attention from our Marauder days were the real reason Peter turned to Voldemort," Sirius claimed. "Why else?"

Harry turned from Sirius and took the letter from Hermione's hands. After giving it a once-over, he nodded. "Interesting, but not really my problem at the moment."

"I can't wait," Hermione drawled. "I can't wait when you come back from your holiday and have to start taking these things as your problems again."

"Fuck off," Harry murmured. Hermione hit him on the shoulder, and she grinned.

"Same to you, and don't swear."

Harry parted ways with his friend after a few hours of chatting, promising to write when he arrived at his holiday destination. He also made sure he had enough food to last until Wednesday (Doubling as Harry's birthday and payment day from the Greengrasses) before packing up the tent and Apparting to a random woodland in Wales at Sirius' instruction. After healing his splinched toenail, he went about setting up camp for the next few days.

Meanwhile, Harry's letter to Dumbledore would reach the Headmaster in a day. And as the Headmaster was still recovering from his encounter with Pomfrey's Extreme Calming Draught, he didn't actually comprehend Harry's letter when he first read it.

_Dumbles,_

_Gone on holiday for the summer. No need to worry your little beard hair over it._

_Sincerely as humanly possible, HJP _

"Who is this Dumbles fellow?" Dumbledore asked himself, before throwing the letter in the fireplace and humming a jaunty tune for the next sixteen hours.

..::..--.--..::..

It was Tuesday night when Harry finally ventured out of his tent retreat and headed to Diagon Alley to get some warm food and a paper. The past day was spent practising Apparation, and Harry thought he had the skill almost down, thanks in partly to Sirius. The Occlumency shield enabled Harry to touch the learning nerves of his brain easier, and the only things preventing him from Apparation were muscle memory and magical focusing. Both problems were overcome quickly thanks to Sirius, and Harry was back to attacking plates for more training,

Harry picked up a _Daily Prophet _from the Leaky Cauldron and did not spot any Rita Skeeter articles in the paper. He reasoned that it had probably only been a day, and maybe Rita would be writing lies and slamming Fudge by Thursday or so.

With some free time, Harry decided to take a stroll around nighttime London, taking in the scenery and alike. After passing several brothels at Sirius' insistence (But never going in or being on the same side of the street as one), Harry was ready to head back to the tent when he was met by a small house elf.

"Harry Potter sir?" the elf asked timidly, holding out a letter. "Miss Greengrass has instructed me to give you this letter, sir."

Harry then recognised Lanky, Daphne's personal elf from Greengrass Manor. He accepted the letter with a nod and a thank you, but the elf stayed.

"Miss Greengrass was hoping for a verbal reply," Lanky explained. Harry nodded and opened the letter.

_Harry, or Bullshit, whichever you prefer,_

_The meeting is going down tomorrow afternoon at 4pm, as you were told by my parents on Sunday. As expected, there was a hell storm for my apparent virginity loss, and the two probed me about if you were Death Eater material. I told them yes, of course, considering you are a sneaky bastard._

Despite himself, Harry couldn't help but snort.

_And they've got the gold all set up and ready to hand over. As agreed, you will get the gold from them and offer to deflower me right away. Lanky will then grab the gold while my parents disappear, and I'll be getting out of there. We'll make it look like you kidnapped me for a bit, until I can get emancipated and make up some story about a deal I made with you._

_I don't know, I haven't got that far. Seriously, my initial plan was to 'accidentally' have my suitor killed before any contract could be signed, and thus, I would avoid being married into a Death Eater family for a bit. Again, didn't think that far._

_Anyway, see you tomorrow then,_

_DG_

Harry pocketed the letter and turned to Lanky. "Tell Miss Greengrass that I'm fine with the plan and I'll meet her tomorrow."

Lanky nodded and popped away, and Sirius told Harry to go 'fetch some special goods'. Harry, confused at his godfather's request, did not argue and Apparated off out of the city. It took about three minutes to procure the goods, and another few minutes for Harry to pop into a dark clearing, holding a brown paper bag.

"Sirius?" Harry asked worriedly.

"Harry?" Sirius mocked. "What's up?"

"I'm in a dark clearing, Sirius. And you lead me here," Harry said, narrowing his eyes. "Maybe you should let me on the plan now?"

"Okay. We're here to make contact with some vampires to help take of Voldemort."

"WHAT!" Harry snapped. "Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Possibly," Sirius acquiesced. "But since I'm stuck in yours, I've had to make do. Listen, Harry, we just make contact and set up a meeting with this clan, the Lamont Noctis, all right? From what I remember from my time in the Order, the Lamonts aren't Voldemort supporters, but they weren't exactly out there helping to fight him. But me and James had this theory all they needed was some blood to work for hire. And combine that with something Fred and George once told me..."

"Get to the point," Harry asserted.

So Sirius did get to the point, and Harry was honestly surprised at the audacity and possible stupidity of the plan.

"You're shitting me, right?"

Sirius let out a snort. "I shit you not, Harry James. I told you the Lamonts just need blood-"

"But from-"

"Yes, that'll work. They're just-"

"-Oh I get what you mean Fred and George's tale. Sickos, using their own-"

"Okay okay, we get it. All good?"

"But where will we find that many-"

"Easy as goblin pie. Australia has tons," Sirius assured. "We give them the-"

"Seriously? We're actually going to give them-"

"YES!" Sirius said testily. "We have a sample-"

"And now I wait to meet the vampires?"

"That you should."

Harry sighed and pocketed the bag, and turned questioningly to Sirius.

"Now what?"

"_Flagrate_ an L," Sirius instructed.

"_Flagrate!" _Harry shouted, pointing to the grass. A fiery 'L' burnt into the grass, and Harry smiled proudly at his work.

"Looks like a penis," Sirius exclaimed.

Before Harry could respond, a lone figure appeared from the shadows, seemingly gliding on the damp grass. Harry held his wand in a non-threateningly manner, and smiled disarmingly.

"I have come to request a presence with Lord Lamont of the clan Lamont Noctis."

"Oh?" the vampire asked, amused. Harry saw a pale man with scraggly grey hair under the long dark cloak. "What would Lord Lamont want with a mortal human apart from a light dessert?"

"Light?" Harry said disbelievingly. He shook his head of it. "Anyway, I'm here for business with the Lord."

"Are you with the Dark Lord?" the vampire questioned. "No, you're not the type. Your arms are too skinny and you use big words. The Ministry? Of course not, you look nothing like this Umbridge woman I hear so much about. Or Dumbledore? You do remind me of a man who waltzed into this clearing demanding an audience with Lord Lamont twenty or so years ago. He claimed to be a warrior for Dumbledore."

"Oh yeah, good times," Sirius reminisced. "James and I were on an Order mission. Good times, especially when we threatened that Voldemort had an army of garlic-made soldiers."

"I am none of those three," Harry stated. "I'm on my own, but I promise you, there will be blood for you and plenty of compensation. Perhaps you're interested now?"

"Wait here," the vampire said, gliding off to the night. Sirius nodded happily as he left.

"Good good. Now, when he comes back, he'll give you a Portkey to Lamont's chambers. Those crazy vampires are actually pretty trusting when it comes to us mortal flesh bags. And when you meet Lord Lamont, just repeat the gist of what I say."

"Catch."

The vampire had returned, tossing a gold coin out from the shadows. Harry caught it sloppily, and correctly guessed it was the Portkey to Lamont's chambers.

"It seems my Lord is accepting of all those promising blood. Hold tight, and be warned. You will not survive if you deceive us."

Harry nodded tensely and gripped the coin tight as it activated with a blue glow. A gut-killing trip later, Harry landed in a rather small medieval room. There was stone walls decorated with lit torches in brackets, as well as the good old fashioned medieval weapon set pinned to the left wall. Harry noticed the other wall held a row of non-magical paintings of people he didn't recognise, but were obviously of high social status.

"Hello young sir. Who might you be and why have you demanded an audience with me?" came a cold voice. Lord Lamont was the textbook Dracula clone - high backed throne chair, long elegant dark robes, dark greying hair and extremely pale skin. He observed Harry rather passively, and Harry also spotted a glint of... obliviousness? He almost groaned. Even the vampires in wizarding England seemed a little moronic.

"Evening, Lord Lamont of the vampire clan Lamont Noctis," Harry said courteously, bowing slightly. When he stood up, he noticed the entire room of vampires (About a baker's dozen, including the one who gave Harry the Portkey) had let out a gasp and turned even paler. Then the whispers started.

"He dares insult our heritage as the noble and beautiful-"

"Un-pure! Un-pure!"

"In the tongue of the old, may we cut it out?"

Harry plunged his hand into his jeans and tightened his grip around his trusty wand. "Do we have a problem?"

"How dare you?" Lord Lamont snapped. "How dare you come in here and insult me so deeply?"

"What did I say?" Harry asked. From the lack of Sirius' response, he knew his godfather was just as stumped.

"Unholiest of the unholy!" Lord Lamont continued. "Dare ye speak that name?"

"What name? Lord? Lamont? Vampire?-"

Another hissed breath, and more mutterings. Several vampires stood up and bared their fangs.

"Fucking brilliant."

"You shall leave now, child," Lord Lamont ordered. Harry quickly held up his hands in a placating gesture.

"What did I do to offend?" he inquired.

The vampires did not respond, and Sirius was looking just as confused.

"You said vampire and they went balls up," he commented. "Say sorry for that, and explain you're unfamiliar with their superior ways."

"I am sorry, my Lord," Harry said respectfully. "I am sorry that I called you by that name, but I do not know what name you call yourselves, and I should be enlightened."

Lord Lamont's face softened, and he nodded slowly. "You may call us by our proper name - bloodsuckers."

"Bloodsuckers? There's a history there I guess..."

"Indeed there is. A decade ago, we learnt that we are the only clan of bloodsuckers to not have any Muggles amongst our ranks!"

"Uh huh..."

"It is blasphemy to have those of dirty and non-magical blood in the ranks of the immortal! We had to do something, so we changed our official name to not match those dirty vampires!"

"Of course," Harry said condescendingly. "With that crazy out of the way, can I make my offer now?"

"Oh? Go ahead."

Harry reached into his pocket and grasped the brown paper bag containing his secret weapon.

"As you all know, Lord Voldemort's ranks are growing out there. And yes, I'm well aware that you feel no stake is in the war between mortals like little old me. But, I offer incentive. You and your bloodsuckers can pass through a lot of wards and you can attack from the shadows and kill Death Eaters. And not only would you get blood from them, but you would also get paid in blood from me."

"I'm sorry," Lamont chuckled. "But you do not have much blood in you. Maybe a heavy dessert if best."

"Ha!" Harry called, pointing to the vampire he met in the field. "He said I was worth a light dessert!"

"You're really pale and skinny!"

Lamont cleared his throat. "Perhaps you should continue?"

"Oh right. As I was saying, I have a little extra incentive."

With a dramatic sweep of his hand, Harry unleashed his secret weapon out of the brown paper bag. In his hand was a runty potato-shaped creature, also known as a garden gnome. The creature was procured by Harry at the Burrow's expanse, and the little bugger was unconscious to avoid any breakouts from its paper bag prison.

"This is a garden gnome," Harry said dramatically. "Created from a botched experiment in the 1400's. The experiment was to make the perfect super soldiers using necromancy and other dark magics. These experiments made two common creatures, one with no blood and cross-bred with the Leithfold, now known as a Dementor. The other is a walking blood bag cross-bred with the real gnomes, known as a garden gnome."

"This creature?" one of the female bloodsuckers said disbelievingly.

Harry tossed the gnome to a random bloodsucker. "It has three more litres of blood than a human. And their blood is basically human, more blood than cattle or other mammals. They are the perfect little meal for you all. And there's hundreds all throughout Britian. And that's just the start. The Australian landmark known as Uluru, or Ayers' Rock, is actually filled to the brim with the bones of these things, who breed extensively in that area. Try it."

The vampires - bloodsuckers - all started exchanging hushed words of consideration. The female that Harry gave the gnome to passed it on to the one that gave Harry the Portkey, and he sniffed the unconscious gnome cautiously.

"If it kills or harms you, you may have my body," Harry offered.

"You may want to be more specific, Harry," Sirius interjected. "Giving them your body can lead to all kinds of vampiric sodomy-"

"Coughshutthefuckupcough."

With the utmost hesitation, the bloodsucker lowered his fangs onto the gnome's neck, sinking in deeply. As the bloodsucker started to eat, the hesitation disappeared and he dove right in. Suddenly the normally brown gnome started to whiten as the bloodsucker drained it completely of blood. The bloodsucker's pupils dilated until his eyes were almost the size of dinner plates, and Harry smiled.

"My theory is right. Again," Sirius said proudly.

The bloodsucker dropped the dead gnome and licked his bloody lips in extreme pleasure.

"That was goooooood," he moaned. "Let's lend our services, my Lord. I believe it may be worth it."

"You'll be getting a dozen tomorrow morning and a dozen the next day if you've taken care of someone by then," Harry said. "And another two dozen after the summer is over and I feel enough Death Eaters have been taken care of. There are none I feel that don't deserve death, but I request that you do not target someone if they don't have the Dark Mark."

"Two dozen, you say?" Lamont considered.

..::..--.--..::..

The next morning, Harry had finished his final gnome delivery to the Lamont clan before the bloodsuckers could sleep for the daylight hours. Getting the little buggers was rather easy in the end, being that the gnomes were easily incapacitated by weak Freeze Charms (Stunners weren't used, due to their explosive effect on smaller objects) and Harry didn't have to meet with any of the Weasleys in his trip. Indeed he kind of missed his friends, but there was a problem with them being too close to Dumbledore, who wouldn't want Harry's holiday plan to happen.

"Happy birthday," Sirius joked, as Harry wiped gnome blood off his hands. The little buggers always fought back sometimes.

"Not how I imagined my sixteenth birthday," Harry added. "I was thinking that I'd be at the Dursleys and moping about my inevitable demise at Voldemort's hands."

"De-pressing."

After a big breakfast, Harry scoured Diagon and Knockturn Alleys for an illegal Portkey out of the country. Even though he could Apparate now, it was Sirius' recommendation that he didn't try crossing the ocean with his new-found ability. Not only would he splinch himself in the process, but the magical drain would almost kill a Peter Pettigrew-like wizard. Similarly, it was impossible to cross the seas via a Floo connection. Hence, the only way out of the country was a Portkey.

"All right, we should have enough for six Portkeys, if the Greengrasses don't flub on me," Harry said, examining prices for different destinations. "First to the British Virgin Islands-"

"A few days of relaxation and keeping low," Sirius said.

"Then touring America's magical monuments."

"Always something I wanted to do."

"Australia."

"Skimpy bikinis and the Great Barrier Reef. Yippie!"

"Italy's magical areas."

"Then Canada."

"Always fun. Then back home," Harry finished. "Six Portkeys."

"Not a problem," Sirius said reassuringly.

Harry left the little shop in Knockturn Alley and strolled down the dingy street confidently, probably because he was under his trusty Invisibility Cloak. He whistled for a bit upon entering the sunnier areas of Diagon Alley, in a rather good mood.

"This is going to be a good day," he said optimistically.

..::..--.--..::..

Lord Voldemort, also known as Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as the Dark Lord, and in a phase in the late 1950's, was once known as Zetta Stardust. Anyway, the Dark Lord Voldemort was having an unusually busy week. Indeed, his recent loss at the Department of Mysteries was a major kick in the pants, and he was still in the planning stages for his next major operations. Operations that were delayed in their planning because of Harry Potter.

It started a week ago, when news of Harry's escape from the Muggle home he stayed in reached the Dark Lord's ear holes.

"My Lord," greeted Peter Pettigrew, bowing respectfully. He knew the consequences of not doing so, and he did not want to play a game of 'Find the cheese inside of Bellatrix while wearing a blindfold' ever again. It was bad enough the first seven and a half times. "I bring news of Harry Potter."

If Voldemort had eyebrows, he would of raised them. "Oh?"

"Yes, I was out on patrol of the nearest neighbourhood to the Dursley home, Wisteria Walk," Peter explained. "I was fighting another rat for a piece of finely melted pizza cheese-"

"The point, Wormtail?"

"After killing the rat, I noticed Harry take off his Invisibility Cloak and jump onto the Knight Bus. Before I could transform, the bus had gone."

Voldemort spotted a flaw in his servant's plan. "You were out in public, even with your silver hand?"

Wormtail smiled slyly. "Of course not, my Lord. I was well prepared." He pulled out a brown leather glove and placed it over his silver hand. It completely covered the magic-made hand. "It changes with me when I transform into a rat as well, my Lord."

"Useful," Voldemort hissed, impressed. "What wizard invented such a device?"

Wormtail didn't have the balls to explain it was a glove bought at a Muggle store, so settled with, "An upstart pureblood, ready for the cause."

"Good," Voldemort smirked. "Now, I will find someone to take care of the Harry Potter problem for the moment, until I can put your special skills to use. Go recast the Imperius on Percy Weasley. We'll need him for the recovery of our lost allies."

Wormtail left to follow his master's orders, making a mental note to find a wizarding glove maker to join Voldemort's cause.

Several hours later, Death Eater and Healer Gaius Selwyn entered his master's chambers, bearing news of Harry Potter.

"I bear news of Harry Potter," Selwyn said. "I was working with the Mudblood Elaine Fawcett when we got a Floo call from Gringotts. There was a glass eye explosion, no big deal really-"

Voldemort sighed tiredly. "The point, Selwyn?"

"Harry Potter was the one who pointed me and Elaine to the injured. Potter was leaving Gringotts, my Lord!"

"Interesting," Voldemort said, interested. "Planning a way out of the country, I suppose? Selwyn, have Marcus Flint and two other of our younger Marked start tracking Harry Potter. Have them start at the Leaky Cauldron. I want to know where he's going, and if possible, if he can be captured successfully. I must be rid of this menace."

By the next morning, Voldemort learnt of Flint, Jugson and Stiller's arrest for drunk and disorderly conduct, and tasked Wormtail with finding Potter.

"Preferably alive," he needlessly added.

The next few days were quiet on the Harry Potter front. Wormtail checked in every evening with no news. Sunday evening came and Voldemort was waiting for his check-in when one of his newly Marked came into his chambers.

Lord Viridian-Lawn Greengrass nodded respectfully. "My Lord, I have news."

"Indeed?"

"Yes. It seems I have found a new connection into the Canadian pureblood circles through the Terwilliger family and my own daughter."

"The Terwilligers?" Voldemort said disbelievingly. The Canadian pureblood circles were notorious for money and fanatic belief in blood purity. Even one family connection to them would benefit the Dark Lord's cause.

"We discussed money over a light tea and scones," Greengrass explained. "My daughter Daphne almost botched the deal, but we were able to reach a compromise for some extra money on our part. For the Virgin Deflowering Clause of course. Anyway, she had the impression that he would be faithful to our cause."

"Excellent," Voldemort said. "I would like to arrange a chat with him. When is your next meeting with him, Viridian-Lawn?"

"Wednesday," Greengrass said. "Late afternoon area. Would you like to come for dinner, my Lord? He would most certainly be available after deflowering my daughter."

"I may just do that, Viridian-Lawn, thank you. Until Wednesday, and good work."

Wednesday soon arrived to no fanfare, and Voldemort was getting ready to head out to the Greengrasses for dinner when Severus Snape came-a-visiting.

"My Lord," he said silkily.

"Severus, any news of Wormtail?" Voldemort asked. The rat had missed the check-in's since Sunday night, and all attempts of tracking had failed so far. And thus, Severus was tasked with finding the Animagus.

"None," Snape said. "Indeed, if the Dark Mark not longer reacts from yourself, it seems that he is either dead or he found a way to remove it-"

"Impossible," Voldemort hissed.

"Never said it was possible, my Lord," Snape said sarcastically. Voldemort would of tortured him, but he didn't want to stain his robes with blood right before a dinner. "As such, I believe the rat is dead."

"An unfortunate loss to our cause," Voldemort murmured. "Call off the search for him, but tell our men to keep an eye out."

"What of Potter?"

"Is Dumbledore coherent again?"

Snape smirked and repressed a snort. "Dumbledore finally woke up and decided to eat something sugar-free for breakfast this morning. He is on the mend, it seems."

"Send Bellatrix. Tell her that Potter is to be alive by the end of their next encounter. Is that clear?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Dismissed, Severus."

Snape departed, and Voldemort used a quick spell to check the time. It was time to make an appearance at Greengrass Manor, and Voldemort was sure that he could persuade this Terwilliger fellow into joining his cause. He was _dead_ sure of it. Ha ha.

Voldemort Apparated with a swish of his black robes near the wards of the Greengrass Manor. Indeed he never really visited his follower's homes like this, but tonight would be a special occasion. And he found his first Death Eaters by doing just this, long before this Harry Potter business ever happen.

However, his keen red eyes noticed several of the manor's windows were missing or were shards on the ground outside, and a section of the garden was slightly crispy and black in colour. Something had happened, it seemed.

"My Lord!" called Mrs Greengrass. Voldemort didn't have the time to remember her name, but glided up to the manor's front doors anyway. Upon arriving at the door, she bowed low.

"Terwilliger took her and left!" she wailed.

"Where is Greengrass?" Voldemort asked impatiently.

"He is unconscious, my Lord," Mrs Greengrass cried. "Terwilliger blew up half our manor and took off with our Daphne. She emancipated herself into his care, and they've gone off to Canada!"

Voldemort's wand arm twitched in annoyance. He needed to curse something and quick. Not only did he lose a link to the Canadian pureblood circles, but he missed out on a formal dinner.

As such, things could only get worse.

Snape Apparated at the wards' edge. He ran up to his Lord and nodded respectfully. "There you are my Lord! The Notts are under attack by vampires!"

Voldemort twitched again, and his eyes darkened. Coincidentally, every window at Greengrass Manor shattered into millions of tiny glass shards.

..::..--.--..::..

To be continued in Chapter 3...

..::..--.--..::..


	3. Planning to and to not Fail

**Thanks to all who added this story to alerts or faves. And to all those who reviewed and said nice things - thank you! Fan Support = More Story!**

..::..--.--..::..

Disclaimer :: All things Harry Potter are owned by JK Rowling, and it would be quite an insult to her if I were to claim them as my own wouldn't it? _¡No es mina!_

'Tis The Season of Summertime

Written by Matt Silver

The chapter where Bellatrix gets decapitated. Mmm... marmalade...

..::..--.--..::..

Rated justly thanks to coarse language, crude humour, crude sexual related humour, sexual references, violence and plate-spinning (Handy advice: Do not spin three plates at once or you'll spend hours picking plate pieces out of skin). Do not take this fic too seriously, it's a little like repeatedly bashing a mirror until... a CRACK forms. Suspension of disbelief is required sometimes. Canon up until book 5, all AU from there.

..::..--.--..::..

On the previous adventure... Harry and his Occlumency shield Sirius dealt with and against Death Eaters by scheming the Greengrass family, in order to get some money and bust out of the country. Exploiting a illogical loophole in Pureblood culture was easy enough, and the two were set. However, Harry was temporarily stopped by Daphne Greengrass, whose own plans happily met Harry's own, and the two were all set to scam her family successfully. After that, Harry hired some vampires - bloodsuckers, as they like to be called - for some assassination plots against the Death Eaters. Meanwhile, Lord Voldemort arrived at a scene of chaos at Greengrass Manor. Harry has already been in and taken the money, it seemed...

Chapter 3 :: Planning to and to not Fail

..::..--.--..::..

Hours before Voldemort would arrive at Greengrass Manor, Harry found himself standing in the foyer and checking himself out in the mirror. He was charmed back to his Baron Ulysses Lionel Larson Siegfried Harrison Ishmael Terwilliger persona before coming over, and was ready to get this business over and done with. Not that scheming to steal gold from an ancient and possibly Death Eater family wasn't fun, but he was ready to leave England and have a fun summer away from it all. That and he didn't want to Dumbledore or Voldemort to stop him doing so, and staying in England for much longer wasn't doing him any favours.

"Baron Terwilliger," greeted Viridian-Lawn Greengrass. He was looking rather pompous today. Indeed, if he were to write a diary entry of the day, he would say 'Today I was pompous and my daughter had sex with a rich baron!'. "It is a pleasure to meet you again."

"It is a pleasure for me as well," Harry said stonily. "Where will be conducting business today, my dear Viridian-Lawn?"

Greengrass nodded and gestured onwards. "In the parlour. But my daughter will be leading you to a specially prepared bedroom for the afternoon's activities."

Harry smiled internally at the reminder of the scheming witch. "Indeed, she is truly of purest blood, with looks and smarts like that."

Greengrass led him into the parlour, where his wife and daughter were waiting. Harry had not seen the younger Greengrass (Astoria, he thought her name might be) in his two trips to the manor, but didn't quite care for it. As last time, Daphne was dressed up in the same chest-enhancing gown and corset combo, with her face looking as purebloody and posh as ever. But Harry caught a spark of excitement in her eyes, and he smiled internally again.

"Laurel, my dear," Harry simpered, kissing Mrs Greengrass on the back of her hand. "Your beauty is like a fine wine. It ages well and tastes fruity."

"Thank you, Baron."

"Please please, call me Bullshit."

Laurel Greengrass' eyes lit up a little, and Harry realised she only just noticed his made-up name of Bullshit.

"And young Daphne," Harry said, turning to his partner-in-crime. "I can only hope you are just like your mother in all regards. With the fruity taste and all that."

Daphne nodded stiffly, but did not reply. There was a moment of silence before Lord Greengrass stepped in and cleared his throat.

"Ah yes!" he announced, clicking his fingers. "Marcello will be bringing the gold. Marcello!"

A pig-snouted house elf wearing a tea towel appeared. "Yes, Lord?" Marcello asked with a surprisingly deep baritone.

"The three chests in our safe, bring them," Greengrass ordered. The elf nodded and popped away. He came back a few seconds later, holding three wooden chests of what Harry presumed was gold. His presumption was proved correct when the Greengrasses opened the lids of all three chests, showing the small piles of pure gold. While both the Greengrass parents were distracted, Daphne had deposited a small note onto Harry's lap. Harry gave it a quick scan.

_When the gold comes, don't count it. Call Lanky and he'll take it to my room. Don't worry, my parents don't know about Lanky's existence._

Harry gave Daphne a brief nod before turning to the wooden chests in front of him. He smiled widely and held out his hand to Lord Greengrass.

"Excellent," he said, and Greengrass took his hand. While they shook hands, Harry pulled out his wand with his left hand and set about shrinking the chests into manageable sizes. Thankfully, the chests didn't go all purple like Harry's trunk did. "Lanky!"

Daphne's house elf, complete with black jacket and pants, appeared and bowed low. "Yes, my Baron?"

"Deposit these chests at my estate. Do it with haste or I will bake you in a pie," Harry ordered, in a perfect Malfoy impression. Lanky took the chests with a snap of his fingers, before disappearing.

"It's time," Lord Greengrass declared. "My daughter, even though she has lost her virginity to god knows who-"

"She said it was this boy in Gryffindor house," Harry added slyly. He saw Daphne's eyebrows raise, but he continued. "A young rogue by the name of... Harry. Harry Harrison."

Greengrass turned red. "Ahh yes. The Harrisons have been after our estate since the hedgehog farms! May a pox be on their house, and a fire consume their souls."

"Indeed."

"As I was saying, my daughter may have lost her viriginity to those dastardly Harrisons, and I have apologised."

"Water under the bridge, as they say."

Greengrass raised his eyebrows. Unlike when his daughter did it, it wasn't the least bit sexy. "That sounds like a Muggle saying."

"No no, it is the Terwilliger family motto: Fucking a young virgin intended for someone else is water under the bridge," Harry said confidently. His Occlumency shield/Sirius hadn't appeared in this conversation, but Harry was sure that Sirius would've groaned in displeasure.

"All right. As I was saying, I have apologised, but she is yours to deflower again, Baron. May her feminine holes be explored fully by you and you only," Greengrass ranted.

Daphne stood up and gestured at Harry. "I shall show him to the bedroom now, father?"

"Yes," Greengrass said proudly. "But you'll be calling him daddy now, sweetheart. Now head on up. Lie there and make us proud, dear."

The Greengrass heiress gave curt nods to her parents, and beckoned the in-disguise Harry Potter to follow her. As the duo left the parlour, Harry relaxed a little and Daphne pulled out her wand.

"Is your father drunk?" Harry asked, breaking the silence.

"Oh yes," Daphne replied. "Big time. Mother suggested that he loosen up a little, but the idiot drank an entire bottle of Firewhisky before she could blink. He sent me out to get some more from the Leaky Cauldron."

"Put it on my father's bill?" Harry recited, remembering his first encounter with Daphne this summer. "Is this a regular thing?"

"Every now and then," Daphne shrugged. "I like going out and about though, so it's not a big deal."

The two finally passed into a slightly less decorated hallway, and Daphne pointed to the furthest door. "My bedroom, where the gold's waiting."

"What did you think about Harry Harrison?" Harry asked, dispelling his Baron Terwilliger glamour. He felt safe enough to do it anyway.

"Moronic," Daphne said candidly. "But funny."

Daphne's room wasn't really what Harry was expecting it to be. For one, it was completely bare except for a four-poster bed, bedside table and wardrobe, and two trunks were sitting on the bed, next to the three chests of gold Harry received from the Greengrasses.

"Nice... bare, but nice," Harry snickered. He then noticed a third inhabitant of the room. A hedgehog was locked in a steel cage on Daphne's bedside table, staring at Harry with beady eyes. "DG, there's a spiky thing staring at me."

"That's just Roscoe," Daphne dismissed. "He's an experimental cross breed my Grandfather tried to sell back in the 60's."

"What was he bred with?"

"Sugar cane plant," Daphne informed. "His spines are actually coated in fine sugar, and the idea was to sell them as pets and snacks all in one. Unfortunately, the idea never got through when they invented sugar quills the same year."

"Interesting," Harry said, staring down little Roscoe. "So as I was saying, this room is pretty bare."

Daphne gave him a look, before approaching the trunks and the chests. "I spent this morning cleaning everything up with some liberal use of magic. Although I can't do that when I get to Canada."

"No?"

"The place I'm staying is in a Muggle area. Can't use magic like I do here and out at Diagon Alley." While she was speaking, Daphne had performed the same spell to lighten her chest load a bit. "Turn around and shut your eyes," she ordered.

Harry reluctantly did so, jokingly saying, "You know, you have been sold to me..."

"And nothing was written as magically binding. Nice loophole, that one."

A few minutes later, Daphne had finished changing and told Harry he could finally look at her. Instead of the fancy gown, she was dressed in a simple skirt and T-shirt, and her hair was back to the blonde-with-black-streaks Harry remembered from Diagon Alley. He smiled and removed his own fancy baron robe, revealing the jeans and T-shirt underneath.

"All changed."

Now dressed appropriately, Harry and Daphne set about dividing up the money.

Daphne whistled low after counting the gold. "Sixty thousand Galleons. I'm insulted that I'm worth that little to have my cherry popped. Seriously, my parents had over a hundred and twenty thousand set away for Astoria when they're going to sell her to the Malfoys. Twice this, and her amount had no bonuses for the fact I faked losing my virginity, and your talk of an extra Greengrass heir-"

"Complain later.," Harry cut in. "Think positive, DG. It's sixty thousand! Thirty-five for me, twenty-five for you. Win-win."

"Wait wait," Daphne said. "I get twenty-five thousand? The deal was I got fifteen..."

Harry smiled at her and gestured to the gold. "I'm feeling generous, and my vault will be open soon. So I only need thirty-five thousand for my holiday. And you're starting a life away from your parents! That and the most Slytherin thing to do here is to have you in my debt. Come on, take it or leave it."

Daphne considered it for a moment. "You're way too nice of a guy for such a Slytherin personality."

"I'm no snake. Just a self-destructive Gryffindor who can sometimes use Slytherin cunning to win the day!" Left unsaid was that Harry thought the Slytherin girl was quite attractive, and that may have fuelled his desire to help her out a little. Hormones plus Sirius' influence can do that to a nice guy.

"Interesting, we have a deal."

The two scammers divided up the gold, Harry putting it all in a bottomless bag he brought with him, while Daphne stuffed it into her trunks. Roscoe the hedgehog continued to stare Harry down, who shivered involuntarily.

"How are we getting out of here?" Harry asked. "Your letter wasn't specific on how we were supposed to walk out the door with the money. Am I supposed to kidnap you?"

"No no," Daphne laughed. She opened the window to her sparse bedroom and gestured outwards. "We're jumping out the window actually. I've got a copy of my emancipation notice, helpfully co-signed by the Davis family -" she pulled out a few sheets of parchment and placed them on the bed. "- and we'll have Lanky Apparate us to the Leaky Cauldron. He can take us through a little ward hole I made in the garden."

"Ward hole?"

"I convinced Father to give me access to the wards for an imaginary Ancient Runes assignment. I created a little area that Lanky could take me out of because house elves can't take humans by Apparation in our manor's wards, you see."

"I do, I do."

Daphne grinned devilishly. "So let's do it!"

Harry wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I thought you didn't want to lose your virginity today?"

"Shut up and jump out into the garden."

Harry followed her out of the window and jumped down into the bushes, landing awkwardly. Compared to Daphne's landing on two feet, he looked like Neville Longbottom versus Draco Malfoy in a broom race. Stupid but with more pride in the end - he hoped. By the time he got up, he noticed Lanky the house elf was waiting.

"Baron Bullshit," the elf squeaked in greeting.

"My name's Harry actually," Harry added. "No bullshit."

"If you say so, sir," Lanky commented. "Missus has her stuff ready?"

Daphne nodded and handed the elf her two trunks and Roscoe's cage, and the elf popped away instantly. Daphne turned to her partner-in-crime, still holding a devilish little grin.

"Well this was fun," she remarked.

Harry grinned in return. "Had a blast from start to finish. Where are you headed?"

"Canada, why?"

"Might stop by for a visit later in my holiday trip," Harry decided. "What's going to happen to the ward hole you created here?"

"Oh that," Daphne dismissed. "No need to worry about discharge of magics, Bullshit. Nor should you worry about the potential to destroy the manor's various wards. No need to worry at all."

"But-"

"No need to worry," Daphne confirmed, fingering her wand.

Harry wisely dropped the subject, and Lanky returned, holding out both of his tiny hands.

"Miss and her Bullshit, I'm ready to take you."

"I told you-"

Harry never got a chance to finish that sentence at Greengrass Manor, but definitely finished it in the Leaky Cauldron. Upon leaving the manor, Daphne severed the ward hole she created, unleashing a shock wave of pure magic. Several windows shattered, the side of the manor became charred, and the garden Harry and Daphne Apparated from became a crater in the ground.

Coincidentally, Lord Greengrass passed out from his alcohol binge, but Mrs Greengrass blamed it on that dastardly Baron Terwilliger later when Voldemort showed up.

..::..--.--..::..

"You got the money!" Sirius said triumphantly for the fifth time in one minute. "We can go now!"

"I know, Sirius," Harry said tiredly. After splitting off with Daphne, he had made his way back to his tent from the Leaky Cauldron, and Sirius had made an appearance to gloat about the success of his and Harry's plan.

"And we can go now!" Sirius repeated. "Shame the Portkey salesman isn't open yet."

"Tomorrow tomorrow," Harry assured. "We get some gnomes for the vampires if they delivered-"

"They're called bloodsuckers, Harry."

Harry shot him and annoyed look and grumbled, "We get the bloodfuckers some gnomes if they've killed someone of interest, then we make a quick trip to Knockturn and buy the Portkeys. We're in the British Virgin Islands by lunchtime at the latest."

"Fingers crossed," Sirius said, crossing his fingers. Harry subconsciously did the same, hoping for the success of his new plan.

The next morning came and Harry realised that the vampires - bloodsuckers - had delivered on their promise to hunt Death Eaters for him in exchange for gnomes. Harry realised this as soon as he woke up and left the tent to breathe in some fresh air.

And then he saw the head of Fredrick Nott, stabbed on a nearby tree branch.

"FUCKBEANS!" he shouted. Sirius appeared instantly, examining the head. As decapitated heads go, it was surprisingly blood-free, indicating the vampires saw fit to cut off the head and suck all the blood out. Fun fun.

"Fuckbeans is about right," Sirius agreed. "Jesus effing Christ, they really did a number on him. Wow, and the head is still fleshy. Touch it for us, Harry."

Harry shuddered and recoiled from the head lying on the ground beside his tent. "No fucking way."

"Spoilsport," Sirius pouted.

Harry reluctantly poked it with his foot, and the head rolled over, revealling a note stuck to the base of Nott's neck.

"Hmm..." Sirius said. Since Harry was too scared to approach it, Sirius read the note out loud. "_Potter, I hope this satisfies your lust for Death Eater blood. A dozen more gnomes to our delivery spot by tonight, or we'll be coming for you. Sincerely, Lord Lamont_. That's nice of him to personally send a note, isn't it?

"I think I'm going to be sick," Harry moaned.

Sirius grinned evilly. "Let's use it for target practice."

With the greatest reluctance quickly erased by Sirius' pressure, Harry levitated the head with a quick spell and Banished it up into the sky. He rested his wand over his forearm and watched it's descent, lining up the perfect shot. Satisfied, Harry blasted the head with a well-placed Exploding Curse, Nott's head exploding in a shower of gory blood, skull bits and brain matter. Fun fun.

After taking a brief shower inside the tent, Harry set about packing up his temporary campsite. He wouldn't need the tent thanks to various motel rooms he would rent overseas, but he decided to take it anyway, placing the shrunken tent inside his shrunken trunk (Which was still purple from its first shrinking a week ago), which was inside his shrunken loot bag. Sirius knew a guy in the British Virgin Islands who converted Galleons to appropriate Muggle money if needed, so Harry was covered there.

With his campsite clear, Harry Apparated to the Burrow to begin a gnome hunt. The sun had long risen by the time he found his first garden gnome, and it was nearing late morning by the time he had captured half a dozen.

"Where are those buggers?" Harry asked, muttering angrily.

"The others got scared, maybe?" Sirius suggested.

Harry was about to retort when a soft voice intervened.

"Harry?"

"Fuck. Hi Ginny."

Indeed it was Ginny Weasley, wearing a simple T-shirt and jeans like Harry's own, but trying to hide something behind her back. In response, Harry tried to hide the bag full of gnomes behind his own back.

"Are you taking our gnomes?" Ginny asked, seemingly unconcerned with his magical appearance at her backyard. Harry sighed and removed his hands from behind his back, showing the sack.

"Yes," Harry said obviously. "I'm selling them to live for the rest of the summer."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You aren't back at the Dursleys yet?"

"Let's see... I'm here at the Burrow... I'm obviously not there," Harry said slowly. Did this girl not get any sleep or something? She was acting as spacey as Luna Lovegood on LSD.

Ginny's gaze suddenly became fixated on Harry's shoes. "Interesting. One of your shoelaces is longer than the other."

"It sure is," Harry muttered. "Hey Ginny, how about you head back inside the Burrow and not tell anyone I was here?"

"All right," she said happily, skipping off to the dilapidated Weasley home. Harry was about to ask her what she was doing out in the Weasleys orchard when Sirius appeared and held a hand up to stop him.

"She had a knife in her hand," he said. "Covered in blood and feathers..."

"Ominous," Harry said sarcastically. What that girl got up to on her holiday time wasn't really his business. So, he returned to gnome hunting, bagging another three before he was interrupted again.

"Hey Harry," Ron Weasley greeted, sitting on his broom, hair windswept. "What are you doing out here?"

"What are you doing out here?" Harry countered.

"Ginny told me that the shoelaces were coming," Ron explained. "Then I coaxed her into telling me that you were out here and you were hunting the gnomes."

Harry shook his head. "Is Ginny on drugs? Or possessed by a diary again?"

"No no," Ron denied, laughing shakily. "Her ankle's been giving her trouble since the Department of Myst-" he stopped suddenly, remembering that Harry had supposedly lost Sirius there.

"Go on," Harry said placidly. "Sirius is still with me in spirit and all that, so just keep gabbing."

Ron gave his friend a wary look before continuing. "So Ginny's been on Mum's Prewett Pain and Parrot Sterility Potion. She's been a little spacey since then, but no big deal."

"Ahh... to be on Pain Potions all summer, blissfully ignorant to it all," Harry said dreamily. "That's right up there with being on the run from Dumbledore and Voldemort, encountering goblins, Greengrasses and bloodsuckers. And not to mention pulling off the most fun scam in my life. So far, anyway."

"Interesting summer, I take it?"

"'Tis the season of summertime," Harry drawled. "And 'tis the season for mischief and mayhem."

Ron cackled and looked at Harry with a newfound sense of awe. "I kind of wish I was in on what you've got planned, but then again, I really don't want to fuck over Professor Dumbledore and You-Know-Who."

"Well, if wishes were Hippogriffs, we'd all be eating steak," Harry said happily.

"Wow," Sirius said bewilderedly, staring at Ron like he was an overgrown albino tree frog. "He finally hit puberty and grew up a little emotionally. I think those brains knocked some sense into him."

Harry laughed aloud and shook his head. "No, those brains suffocated some sense into him."

The subject of Sirius and Harry's conversation looked confused. "Who are you talking to, Harry?"

"No one," Harry denied, waving his arms about in order to prove he was still sane. It was ineffective, to say the least.

There was a moment of silence, before Ron pointed to a nearby tree. "Gnome," he said.

Harry turned around and, quick as a flash, blasted the creature with a Stunner. Unfortunately, the spell connected with the gnome's stubby feet, exploding them off and showering the ground in misty gnome blood.

"Screwballs," Harry moaned. He sent a Cutting Curse to put the leg-less gnome out of his misery. Ron, however, subtly looked away after the gnome exploded.

"Fudge got hit with the short end of the beater bat in the paper today," Ron informed his friend. "Rita Skeeter wrote an article detailing Fudge's blunders and questionable hiring choices. Dad says that the Minister is not long for that office."

Harry smirked. He had given Rita the ammo to write some stuff about Fudge via Hermione a few days ago, and it seemed that it all turned out well for him and hopefully the Ministry of Magic. Seriously, the government needed to go to wartime mode if they had a Eskimo's chance in hell of winning this war with Voldemort. Harry knew that he didn't want to shoulder the wizarding world (They didn't deserve it anyway), so a competent Ministry would help a lot. That and paid vampiric assassins.

"I like that," Harry decided. "About time that incompetent bastard got kicked off the Minister of Magic magical softball team. Shall I tell you what Umbridge is up to these days?"

While Harry explained Umbridge's new profession as a bus-dwelling hippy/prostitute, the Burrow was alight with activity.

"He's here?" Albus Dumbledore demanded, fully coherent and ready to roll. After recovering from his accidentally induced calm attack, he was forced to realise that Harry had slipped from his control, and this could be problematic. So when Molly Weasley appeared at his Floo and told him that her daughter had spotted Harry at the Weasley family orchard, he had come-a-running. Upon arriving at the Burrow, he immediately took charge.

"Yes, Ron went out there to talk to him before I Flooed you," Molly explained. "Ginny is off cleaning the kitchen knife, and then she has to clean the sink when's she done. I told her once, I told her twice, clean up after whatever mess you make. Whether it be preparing food, cleaning the house or even cleaning blood and feathers from a knife- wait a minute!"

"Molly, my dear," Dumbledore interrupted. "Call Moody, Shack, Bill and Remus. Tell them to lock down the Burrow - Harry won't be able to leave unless he's learned to Apparate."

"But that's highly unlikely," Molly said. Barring any unnatural Occlumency-related boosts in focus, of course.

"But that's highly unlikely," Dumbledore agreed. He left the Weasley matriarch to her duties and strolled out the back door of the Burrow and into the backyard, wand hand at the ready and eyes twinkling madly.

Meanwhile, Harry was in the middle of describing the process of fellatio to Ron, who was confused at what Harry meant by Umbridge 'jollying the driver's roger'. Ron finally got it when Harry got down to the basics, but the rest of their stimulating male conversation about Umbridge and penises was interrupted by Sirius, who stopped Harry's speech with four words. Well, six words shortened to four with some apostrophes.

"Someone's coming," Sirius informed. "It's Dumbledore."

With Sirius' confirmation, Harry groaned. "Ron," Harry said, turning to his friend. "This has been great, but I have to fuck off before I get captured by a bearded old man who offers you candy and subsequently ruins your life. I mean seriously, he should at least offer good candy before telling you you have to kill Voldemort-"

"YOU WHAT?" Ron snapped.

Dumbledore appeared in front of the two, cutting off Ron's outburst. "That's enough, Harry. Ronald, why don't you head back inside."

Ron stared incredulously at his friend before acquiescing to the Headmaster and walking off. "What the fuck was that about?" he muttered to himself.

"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore greeted, feigning happiness. "It has been quite a while. Last I remember, I received a letter saying you were on holiday."

"I am," Harry lied. Just for the sake of it, he looked Dumbledore directly in the eyes and took the old man's Legilimency probe with a smile. Sirius the Occlumency shield was doing his job, blocking any attempt into Harry's mind.

"Oh?" Dumbledore asked, surprised. "I would assume a holiday meant a tropical beach somewhere, not a run-down orchard."

"Say that to the Weasleys' faces," Harry dared, not rising to Dumbledore's bait. "A holiday such as this is a lot better than being stuck at the Dursleys, learning Occlumency and awaiting the day when the wise old Headmaster saves me from the evil prison he put me in and takes me to my friends, asking them to watch over me in the process and expecting me to not do anything beyond Quidditch and wanting me to still be totally trusting in you and mourning Sirius and angsting over the prophecy and me and Voldemort, amiright?"

Dumbledore digested Harry's breathless and ranting sentence with a calm smile, although he grimaced at the implications of Harry's statement. Self-awareness, while useful sometimes, really was a pain in Dumbledore's wrinkly arse.

"Of course?" the Headmaster half-said, half-asked. Harry was thrown off, but snorted in disbelief.

"So, is that it?" he inquired. "Done interrogating why I left, and... that's it. I can go off and have some fun in my orchards?"

"Sometimes, you really make me want to take some more Extreme Calming Draughts and forget this drama," Dumbledore murmured to himself, but Harry caught it and laughed triumphantly.

"Extreme Calming Draughts?" Harry cackled. While he was doing his over the top laughter, he subtly shifted his wand and pointed it at his bag of sleeping garden gnomes. "Good one, Headmaster."

"Moving on," Dumbledore stated. "We need to sit down and chat, Harry. How about a trip to my office? A nice lemon drop perhaps?"

"One word, Dumbles," Harry drawled. "Catch!" With that, he threw the bag of gnomes up in the air and unleashed three successive Blasting Curses. Curse one missed the mark, but numbers two and three made up for it, obliterating the bag and the gnomes inside. Before Dumbledore could comprehend, he was covered head to toe in gnome blood, and Harry was gone. The Boy-Who-Lived had done a runner to the wards barrier and Apparated away, leaving Dumbledore's previously white robes drenched in dark red blood and his beard matted with gnome innards.

One unlucky gnome survived the curses, having woken up before being hit by the curse. The gnome, hereby referred to as Sebastian, landed awkwardly on the ground with a broken leg, watching as the blood of his brothers and sisters covered the old man. Sebastian vowed revenge and subsequently tried to avenge his family by biting Dumbledore's ankle. Dumbledore didn't have the decency to kill Sebastian, but he Banished the gnome a distance away, causing another leg break. Now, the crippled Sebastian would live to fight another day...

..::..--.--..::..

Harry picked up his gnome hunting again at Serenity Valley, a small town in the Welsh countryside. Although the town was mostly Muggle, gnomes still milled around the nearby woods, and the Muggles were really none the wiser. So he took out his anger at the Headmaster on some poor gnomes, but managed to capture a dozen of the gnomes after only killing about seven or so. Gnomes in conjured net (With his gnome-catching bag destroyed earlier), Harry dropped them off at the bloodsucker's stronghold, and cleaned up in a nearby riverbed.

"Blood is so hard to get off," Sirius complained, not actually covered in blood at all. Only Harry was, and he was the one doing the work. "I feel sorry for you."

"Don't," Harry ground out. "In a few hours, I'll be on holiday, and we won't need to worry about blood or anything alike. Okay?"

Sirius nodded and let Harry get on with his cleaning. Bored, Sirius began listening to the birds again for signs of 'fun fauna fornication'.

"Mad, I tell you," Harry said to himself.

The intrepid duo made their way to Knockturn Alley, to properly spend Harry's money on a Portkey out of the country. Along the way, Harry picked up a _Daily Prophet _and read up on Rita Skeeter's new smear campaign against Fudge, laughing to himself as he read it. And, once again, his disappearance hadn't made the news, nor had any Voldemort related activity. It seemed wizarding Britain was in the mood for some politics news instead of war news.

"Give me an 'O'!" Sirius cheered. "Give me a 'BLIVIOUS'! Oblivious!"

Harry finally found the Portkey salesman, and handed over a sizeable amount of gold in exchange for the six Portkeys required.

"It'll take about half an hour," the salesman said, placing Harry's gold in a broken-down till. "So come back then and get your Portkeys."

Harry nodded and left, wondering how he was going to spend the next half an hour. While still under a light glamour, he decided to forego the Invisibility Cloak. That became a problem when a rush of magic smashed into his side, sending him flying down the street. He landed awkwardly with a THUD, cutting his lip in the process.

"What the fu-"

"POTTER!" That voice Harry definitely recognised. It was Bellatrix Lestrange, Death Eater bitch extraordinaire and the murderer of Sirius Black.

"Well technically, I'm here with you," Sirius pointed out. "But avenge my body if need be, Harry."

Harry, slightly winded from the spell impact, shakily stood up and faced Bella. He gave her his darkest look, and she smiled sadistically.

"We meet again, Potty. Not a bad glamour, but I knew those glasses anywhere. And here we are," she commented. "You, me, an empty street-" True, as several Knockturn patrons had run like hell into the nearest stores like the cowards they were. "-and I am tasked with bringing you to my Lord. He said you should be alive, but I don't think he would really mind if you were a corpse."

"How about just a head?" Harry taunted. "Not mine, how about yours? See, I'm thinking that you heard about Nott's encounter with the vampires last night?"

Bellatrix turned red in anger. "How did you know that?"

Harry tapped the side of his nose with his left hand, reaching in his pocket to get his wand with his right. "Magic."

"Potter..." Bellatrix growled. "I may have to bring you back alive after all. Maybe alive and all vegetable-like. Ever meet the Longbottoms?"

Harry dismissed her taunt with a middle finger. "Eat shit. I think that you're in over your head here, Bella. Think, wouldn't the Ministry be coming sometime soon? I mean, you are trying to avoid going back to Azkaban right?"

Bellatrix paled a bit at the reminder. "Then I will have to incapacitate you and then torture you at another location. Good idea."

Harry surreptitiously cast a non-verbal Disillusionment Charm on the contents of his pockets. He then finally pulled his wand out and pointed it at Bellatrix.

"Wanna dance?"

Inside Harry's head, Sirius groaned at the ridiculous taunting.

Bellatrix growled like the rabid dog she was and shot off a quick Stunner. Harry put up a weak shield to dispel it, and set about casting rapid Trip Jinxes. Bellatrix jumped over all the spells and cast her own string of curses and hexes. Harry couldn't put a name to the spells cast, so set about dodging, ducking and rolling to avoid them all. He briefly recognised the Bone-Shattering Hex, and stopped that with a hasty shield.

"Is that it?" he joked. Quick as a flash, he blasted the ground at Bella's feet with a Blasting Curse, the asphalt shooting up in all directions. One unlucky shopkeeper needed a new window, but the two fighters weren't injured at all.

Harry used a spell to tip all the Galleons in his pockets to the ground. Because they were Disillusioned, Bellatrix heard but didn't see them clatter on the concrete. Harry decided to use that to his advantage and sent rapid Banishers to the ground around him, aiming at Bella's head. His spell connected with most of the coins, and Bellatrix played an effective game of duck and dodge to avoid them all. One pinged her on the head, and she stumbled somewhat. Harry took advantage and blasted her with a Concussion Hex. Unluckily, the hex only scraped her shoulder, and she stumbled a bit before recovering.

Bellatrix conjured up a dozen or so steel darts, and charmed them to dive-bomb Harry repeatedly. Harry blasted several with one well-placed Reductor, but the others were giving him trouble. After being stabbed by one in the thigh, he took a deep breath and tried his first extreme conjuration spell. He successfully conjured a steel umbrella and batted the darts away, but barely dodged Bellatrix's Blood-Freezing Curse. With the darts destroyed, Harry lobbed the umbrella at his opponent, who dodged it and let it impale in the wall behind her.

Harry summoned a nearby rubbish bin and subsequently Banished it to Bellatrix, who sliced the bin in half with a light Cutting Curse. She smiled evilly and pointed to _Borgin and Burkes_, the shop Harry was standing in front of. With a non-verbal incantation, Bella's spell sailed over Harry (Who ducked to avoid the jet of indigo and red magic) and connected with the shop window, not even destroying it. Harry didn't notice the window start to crack, as he was busy dodging and replying to his opponent's spellfire.

"Behind you!" Bellatrix taunted suddenly. Harry wasn't about to fall for that one, and didn't expect to have the window behind him to explode outwards in a concentrated stream of glass.

"DUCK!" Sirius advised. Harry did so, letting the stream of glass fly down the street and into Diagon Alley. "Shit, that was evil. If that curse had hit you, your organs would be where that glass is now."

Harry stood back up to dodge Bella's Blindness Hex, and levelled a Cutting Curse at the Death Eater, connecting with her non-wand arm. She flinched at the contact and ignored the dripping blood, instead aiming a spell at the dart imbedded in Harry's thigh. The unknown orange spell connected with the steel dart, and suddenly melted it directly into Harry's skin.

"Shit!" Harry cursed, Banishing the hot metal away from his thigh. That was a new scar for sure.

"_Exuro Amo Abyssus_," Sirius remarked. "That's the incantation to melt the steel she used, combined with an upwards jabbing motion with her wand."

"What use is that?" Harry hissed, destroying another shop window with a poorly aimed Confringo. Bellatrix cackled at his mistake, before conjuring more of those steel darts.

Sirius rolled his eyes, a motion Harry only caught in his bad peripheral vision. "There is another steel object in this battle, Harry," he chided.

Harry was too busy destroying the new set of darts when it hit him. He had a conjured steel umbrella imbedded in the wall behind the evil witch, and a nice spell to melt it with.

"_Accio Umbrella_!" Harry called, pointing his wand at the wall behind Bellatrix.

The Death Eater and all around unpleasant gal didn't duck in time, and had a steel umbrella sticking out of her shoulder for her troubles. Harry took aim and fired off the _Exuro Amo Abyssus _spell, missing the first time. He dejectedly tried to think of another option before Bellatrix got that umbrella out, but Sirius stopped him.

"Try again!" Sirius snapped.

"_Exuro Amo Abyssus_!" Harry shouted. The spell finally hit home, melting the umbrella upon contact. Bellatrix shrieked at the contact and spelled the molten steel away, and wasn't able to stop Harry's next spell.

A conjured rope tied itself around Bellatrix's neck, the other end held by Harry's left hand, wand in right. Now trapped, Bellatrix only squirmed and tried to remove her noose while Harry sent spells her way. She dodged them all impressively enough, and Harry decided to bring in the big guns.

"_Crucio_!" he spat, hoping like hell to put Bellatrix off balance. The curse missed though, but Bella finally retaliated against her noose. With a non-verbal spell aimed at the rope, the noose disappeared and reappeared on Harry's left arm.

"Oh shi-"

Bellatrix then transfigured the rope into razor-sharp barbed wire, digging into Harry's robes and tearing some skin to shreds.

"Specialised Shrinking Spell, now!" Sirius ordered. The Specialised Shrinking Spell was the only Shrinking variant to work on human anatomy, and Sirius had taught Harry the sweet spots to hit with this spell. Once shrunk, the wand-hand, the face bones or the kneecaps would definitely handicap the duellist thoroughly. Problem was that the spell drained magical energy like a motherfucker, and Harry didn't think he'd be able to win this battle if the spell missed.

"Fine!" Harry said resignedly, ignoring the stinging in his arm. He ran forward a bit, pivoted to avoid Bellatrix's spell, turned and put up a shield to block another unknown hex. He ducked his knees a bit, and Bellatrix copied his move. However, he was faster, and he was up with his back straight and wand arm swinging wide. He twirled his wand and jabbed it forward, unleashing a bolt of white magical energy upon non-verbally saying the spell's incantation. Luckily or unluckily, Bellatrix's Bone-Breaking Hex clipped his side and he went down, but the Shrinking Spell smashed into her right kneecap anyway.

Her kneecap now the size of a marble, Bellatrix stumbled and hit the ground. It was a race to see who could get up first, and it was a draw. Harry had a shield up instantly to reflect Bellatrix's conjured barbed wire (The wire impaling Harry's arm had fallen off when he went down, to his relief.) and had a new spell on his lips.

_"STUPEFY!_"

As mentioned many times before, a strong Stunner had explosive effects on smaller objects. And since Bellatrix's shrunken kneecap was rather small, it was the perfect target. What a target it was! The knee bone exploded and hit the pavement with an impressive splatter, and Bellatrix's right leg became two pieces. The piece on the ground was basically a mess of shredded muscle, bone, skin, robe fabric and blood. The part still attached to her body was bleeding profusely, and she was on the ground in an instant, screaming in pain and dying of rapid blood loss simultaneously.

Bellatrix's last ditch effort was to fire off three Killing Curses, all avoided by Harry. He scooped up Bellatrix's leg remains with a quick spell and banished them to her face, effectively blinding her. He disarmed her with a kick in the hand, breaking a few of her fingers in the process.

"Game over," Sirius said finally.

Harry nodded and intentionally took his first human life (Wormtail was an accident, so he didn't count) by dropping a nearby brick onto Bellatrix's face. A muffled squeak followed, before the evil witch stopped moving and let her brain matter spill out onto the street. Harry collapsed to his knees, and looked at the stores around instead of the body right in front of him.

Wizards and witches were starting to peer out of their hidey holes in the Knockturn stores, seeing that the battle was finished and one of the opponents was dead. Not just dead, but full on mutilated and all pancake-like.

"They'll either kill me or give me a medal," Harry commented. "And I would be vomiting right now if is wasn't for the adrenaline."

"Let's hope your glamour fools them," Sirius said.

Harry checked his watch and realised enough time had passed to get his Portkeys. Without further adieu, he barged into the small store, took the key-ring of Portkeys handed to him, and dragged himself out the way he came.

Thankfully, Harry was pumped enough to put his Invisibility Cloak on and limp calmly out of Knockturn Alley, leaving Bellatrix's remains behind. Upon arriving at Diagon Alley, he stepped over the glass shards from one of Bellatrix's spells and passed the people injured by those same shards. He continued to limp onwards to where there were no anti-Portkey wards; the Leaky Cauldron. With his right hand, Harry pulled out the Portkeys from his pocket and fingered the one to the British Virgin Islands.

"Is there a Healer at the BVI?" Harry asked, opening the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Doctor Antonio should still be there," Sirius confirmed. "He's a little unorthodox, but he gets the job done. I mean, what else would you expect from a transgender wizard with two hooks for hands?"

"Yeah."

Harry finally realised what Sirius said when his heart pumped and fresh blood poured out of his leg and arm wounds.

"Wait, what?"

Sirius dismissed it easily. "No big deal really. Why are we still in the Leaky Cauldron? The Portkey wards aren't here..."

"Alcohol," Harry groaned. "I've never wanted to take up drinking more than right now. I need some."

Harry then 'borrowed' a bottle of Firewhisky from Tom's shelves, only his hand poking out from under the Invisibility Cloak.

"Hey!" Tom shouted at the invisible intruder who just stole some of his merchandise.

"Bill it to Lord Greengrass," Harry whispered sardonically. Before Tom could respond, he had already activated the Portkey, and Tom was left talking to himself for a bit.

..::..--.--..::..

Thursday the 1st of August was not a good day to be Cornelius Fudge. Indeed, no day was good to be an overweight man with various bladder problems, four ex-wives, six bastard children and a responsible Ministry job to take care of. To make things worse, Fudge had been taking a political anal raping in the process ever since Voldemort's return became public.

First came the political backtracking, in which Fudge fired Dolores Umbridge for her numerous crimes he sanctioned. He didn't care where the woman was now, but heard rumours she was currently plotting a mutiny against the leader of the Knight Bus' third floor sanctuary.

After taking care of Umbridge, he asked his smart advisors to try to assess the damage from letting Voldemort run around for a year, and him hiring now-known Death Eaters.

The four advisors to Fudge not in jail were now dead by deliberate potion-related suicide, in the Cayman Islands, contemplating a career as a Muggle singer and moving to Europe to have an expensive operation to change from Butch McAlester to Betty McAlester.

However, a desperate save of Fudge's political career began eight days ago, when he was visited by his distant cousin, Billius 'Fork-in-eye-dare' Billson. Billius waltzed into Fudge's office and bumped into the Minister's desk.

"OW!" he cursed. He scratched at his face and rearranged the bandages around his left eye. "My eye exploded earlier today."

"Fascinating," Fudge said scathingly. "Why are you here, Billius?"

"My eye exploded earlier today," Billius repeated. "The glass got in my brain, but the Healers told me I can still walk around and do jump rope."

Fudge gave the man a beady stare. "Sorry?"

Billius waved him off. "Don't be. But I have news, Fudgie. Sorry, Minister Fudgie. Anyway, I saw Harry Potter at Gringotts today."

Fudge narrowed his eyes at the reminder of his now arch-nemesis. A boy who did nothing but exist and tell the truth, but an arch-nemesis nonetheless.

"And I heard a rumour that he escaped from his Muggle house," Billius added. "Think about it for a bit Fudgie. If you handle his escape right, maybe you can get some brownie points with the public. Imagine! Harry Potter escapes Muggle house and is saved by formerly antagonistic Minister of Magic. Now together to fight a war, the Minister and Potter are reported to be close friends, enjoying golf on the weekends and homoerotic bonding time. This could save your job!"

No one ever accused Fudge of being one to think over his options, but at the word 'together', he tuned crazy Billius out and nodded politely. If Fudge had ignored the ramblings of the man and saw the basic message, he may have saved his career.

Alas, he did not.

Later that night, Fudge was drinking his specially-made tea when a note from the Auror Office appeared on his desk. This note was followed by Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour strolling into the Minister's office unannounced.

"I have a door to knock on," Fudge pouted.

Scrimgeour ignored him and handed Fudge a photo. The Minister saw three young men all branded with the Dark Mark, bound and unconscious.

"We caught some!" Fudge said excitedly. Maybe he could use a little public relations and save the day again!

"We didn't catch anything," Rufus said solemnly. "The three were drunk and talking about looking for Harry Potter, when they decided to streak through the Leaky Cauldron. Only when they got naked did everyone in the pub see the Dark Mark, and someone called the Aurors. The kids were out cold when I got there, from alcohol poisoning."

"Win win," Fudge said dreamily. "Rufus, send the story to the _Daily Prophet_. I want it second-page news, and I want it by tomorrow morning. Inform them that I'm taking all the appropriate measures etcetera, and that more captures like this one and the Department of Mysteries break-in should be expected. I'm taking this very seriously."

Rufus raised a bushy eyebrow at Fudge's unbuckled belt and pot of tea that smelled suspiciously like cheap scotch and hopeless tears, but nodded in confirmation and departed without a word.

The next few days passed without major incident. The Wizengamot was still deliberating on Fudge's fate as Minister, and the Minister himself was corresponding with a lovely lady he read up in the classifieds, one Adelle Fleuret-Stirborg-Stinger-Flamberge-Parkinson-Flyssa-Zabini. He was reading another one of her letters on Monday morning when Percy Weasley came into his office, smiling for once.

"What's going on, Weasley? Did Potter die?" Fudge asked hopefully. Percy had been even more snotty and snappish since the Department of Mysteries break-in, and Fudge wasn't the least bit suspicious of his behaviour being Imperius-related.

But Percy just smiled. "No he didn't Minister, but I am here to request a sick day."

Fudge balked. Percy Weasley never took a sick day last time he remembered. "So you came into work to request a sick day?"

"Yes," Percy confirmed.

Fudge thought over the fundamentals of losing Percy's workload for the day, but then he remembered the new intern working at the Ministry for the summer. Her bottom was quite shapely...

"YES!" Fudge said a little too exuberantly. "Send that Audrey girl, the intern, up here to do your work for the day Weatherby. Tell her to wear white robes and carry dripping jugs of water all day, post-haste. Enjoy your sick day old boy. You deserve it!"

Percy departed for the Burrow a few minutes later after sending the intern into the clutches of a lonely Minister. The third-eldest Weasley had some explaining to do to his family, especially because of being under Imperius for the past month or so. He didn't want to burden Fudge with it after all, especially since the Minister was on his way out of office for sure.

That evening, Percy was called back to the Minister's office by Auror Nymphadora Tonks.

"Weasley," she greeted. She pointed to the Minister, who was unconscious and sprawled across his desk with a broken nose. "Your intern just attacked Fudge in self-defense for hostile advances, and we had to call you in from your sick day."

Percy sighed and resumed his usual uptight demeanour. "Has Audrey been sent home?"

Tonks shook her head. "She's in the bathrooms, cleaning up the water Fudge splashed on her white robes all day. Especially in the chest and backside areas..."

"He's going through some things," Percy said conspiratorially. "I'll send him home and take over his workload for the night. When Audrey returns, I'll convince her not to press charges somehow..."

"Maybe you should sell yourself," Tonks joked, before leaving. Percy considered the pros and cons of that idea as he levitated Fudge into the Floo and took him back to the Fudge Dwelling.

Fudge took Tuesday off to recover and hide from the angry female intern, but had to return on Wednesday at Percy's grating insistence. Fudge holed himself in his office and didn't read the _Daily Prophet, _hoping like hell that his sexual discrimination didn't leak out to the press. Unknown to him was that Percy had in fact whored himself out to the young intern, who, for some miraculous reason, actually agreed to go on a date with him instead of pressing charges on the Minister. So by the end of the day Fudge was relieved to go home and fall into an alcohol-related slumber.

Thursday morning brought two bad news scenarios.

"Bad news scenario number one will be in my right or left hand," Percy announced, holding his hands behind his back. "Bad news scenario number two will be the one you don't pick."

Fudge tiredly picked Percy's left hand, and the assistant pulled out an Auror report about an attack on Nott Manor the previous night.

"Vampiric assassins," Percy informed, and Fudge looked over the wizarding photos included in the report. Fredrick Nott had moved in with his sister-in-law and nephew after his brother's capture at the Department of Mysteries, and it seemed that was a mistake. Fredrick Nott's head was missing, his sister-in-law was a bloodless husk and his nephew was hung from a chandelier by his own entrails. All three were Marked Death Eaters. "They're still looking for Nott's head, but I'm thinking whoever hired the vampires wanted a keepsake."

"Oh," Fudge moaned weakly. He didn't need vampiric assassins or vigilantes running around, that's for sure. He was unable to tear his eyes away from the dead, and naked, Mrs Nott, but managed to ask, "What's in your right hand?"

Percy closed his eyes and prayed to a random deity (Snowshoes, the Norse wizarding creature god of snow and rabbit pelt) that Fudge wouldn't freak out.

"In my right is a Rita Skeeter special about you," Percy said calmly. Fudge paled and dropped the Auror report.

"Jesus fucking Snowshoes," Fudge cursed.

Percy didn't hand Fudge the paper, but read out the basic outline. "She got an anonymous whistle blower to cite all your 'political cock-ups' and she listed them down with sarcastic commentary. '_In 1981, Fudge conspired with Barty Crouch Sr and Millicent Bagnold into throwing Sirius Black into prison without trial by faking a witness report that Black killed all those Muggles. Is this what Fudge did to reach the position of Minister? This reporter wishes to find the fudged truth.'_ It goes on like that."

"That's not even true!" Fudge babbled. "She's smearing my name into the mud like I'm some Harry Potter or Albus Dumbledore!"

Percy shook his head and read another passage further down the list. "Here we go. '_For an entire year from June of 1995 to June of 1996, Fudge was spoon-fed gold and shat a smear campaign all over Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore, using them as scapegoats for his own disbelief concerning the return of He Who Must Not Be Named._' Shall I go on?"

"No," Fudge snapped. "Go make me another pot of my specialised tea and bring it here."

Percy ended up brewing about seven of Fudge's special tea pots before lunchtime, and had to ward his office against all the Howlers Fudge was receiving through him. Percy had almost half a mind not to care about Fudge's predicament, especially since he wasn't mentioned in Rita's article and that Fudge's idiocy about Voldemort and Peter Pettigrew's existence led him to be Imperio'd by a supposedly dead man.

In the mid afternoon, Rufus Scrimgeour and Tiberius Odgen visited the Minister, outward faces grim but the inward faces quite gleeful.

"Cornelius," they greeted. Tiberius took charge and unrolled a long roll of parchment.

"I, on behalf of the Wizengamot-"

Fudge, drunk with power and scotch, slurred, "Oh no! I'm fired!"

Tiberius abandoned the parchment reading and nodded mock-sadly. "Yes, Fudge, it seems you've run your course and you've come last, dragging our Ministry down with you-"

"Nice analogy," Rufus interjected.

"Thank you. Anyway, unless a political miracle comes through your door before 5pm today, you're swimming with the dead political fishes-" Tiberius turned to Rufus for another compliment, but was shattered when Rufus shook his head. "-And you are to pack up your office by tomorrow morning and hand it over to Rufus."

"WHAT?" Fudge shrieked, standing up suddenly. "Please! I can't lose this job, I can be a good Minister. Watch me!"

And to prove how good a Minister he was, Fudge tripped and fell to the ground with a sickly thud.

Rufus let loose a small snigger. "We'll leave the soon to be former Minister to his packing," he jeered.

Fudge was on the ground for the rest of the day, while Percy tried to ready himself to be Rufus Scrimgeour's new assistant.

"Me? I'm loyal, hardworking and a perfect NEWT student," Percy said confidently, talking to the mirror near his desk. "I'm not only dashing, according to one Audrey Ravenwood, but a vigourous lover, according to Penelope Clearwater. How vigourous can I be, Minister Scrimgeour? We shall see-"

"WEASLEY! MORE TEA!"

Percy busied himself with heading over to the Minister's kitchenette to boil some more hot water. He was about to retrieve the scotch when he got a surprise visitor.

"Weasley," greeted Auror John Dawlish. "Is the Minister in?"

Percy noticed the grim look on Dawlish's face, and decided to clarify what the Auror wanted. "What did you need, Dawlish?"

"We found another Death Eater body," Dawlish said slowly. "Bellatrix Lestrange, or what was left of her, is being cleaned off the streets of Knockturn Alley as we speak."

Percy was shocked, but nodded his head. "Thank you Auror, I'll make sure that the Minister gets the news."

Percy delivered the pot of tea to his boss, but didn't tell the Minister of the Bellatrix Lestrange incident. He figured the Minister had enough on his plate, besides a pending liver failure.

However, another hour passed before Billius 'Forked-himself-as-a-practical-joke' Billson stormed into the Minister's office, his glass eye back in place.

"Weasley, where's Fudgie?" he demanded.

Percy shook his head. "Minister Fudge is busy with important packing related work. What do you need, Billson?"

"I have the political miracle of the century!" Billius claimed. "I can save Fudgie's career right now!"

"How?"

"By telling him that Bellatrix Lestrange, THE Bellatrix Lestrange is dead, and we can pin it on one of his Aurors as doing the deed. I've just been chatting to Larson Savage, and he agreed to take responsibility, and start spewing positive things about the Fudge Ministry. Think, Weasley, Fudge could become popular again, especially when he dispels all the fudge fed to the public by Skeeter! It's a miracle!"

Percy smiled disarmingly and nodded rapidly. "Good plan, Billson. Savage, you say? I'll contact him now and get him up here with Fudge. Why don't you head off and I'll take care of it all."

Billius left, skipping down the hallway in the process. Percy watched him go, debating on the biggest decision of his career. On the left hand, it was plot with Fudge to take back the Ministry as Fudge's own by using Lestrange's death as a political bargaining chip. On the right hand was taking a leaf out of Fudge's book and ignoring it, keep feeding the Minister his tea until he packs up his office as a roundabout revenge for Percy's own brush with Pettigrew's Imperius.

Would he plan to fail on Fudge's behalf?

Minutes later, Percy was brewing another pot of tea and humming happily when Audrey Ravenwood came in to grab a glass of water.

"Wow, that's like the tenth pot of tea I've seen you brew today," she remarked, smiling flirtatiously at the Weasley man. "Is Fudge really drinking all that?"

Percy nodded happily. "He says it makes the tears taste less bitter. Enough about Fudge, how about we discuss dinner plans?"

..::..--.--..::..

Ha ha. Bella didn't get decapitated after all. Just squashed into the pavement.

To be continued in Chapter 4...

..::..--.--..::..

You know, I think I once said this fic was only a three-parter. Turns out I was a little mistaken! Woo! Anyway, this fic is now going to be MUCH longer, hopefully. And I'm still working on **To End in Tranquility**, so yeah...

Carry on.


	4. Toeing and Fingering the Line

**Thanks to all that reviewed, added to alerts or faves etc. Seriously, I really appreciate the support.**

**Before we get started, I'd like to address one review that flat out implied I have no idea where the story is going. And the answer to that is a hearty denial. I do have an overarching plot (And had one planned from the beginning), and that was probably masked by the random 'humour' in earlier chapters. Yes, that 'humour' will still be there later on, but the overarching plot will become evident in the next few chapters. So, to all doubting readers, doubt no more!**

**Hopefully, the story is no less enjoyable, but I'll leave that up to my readers to decide. And for all those Harry/Daphne fans, they get quite a bit of interaction in this chapter and the next. They're not in a relationship yet, but getting there. **

**Also, watch for four well-loved character cameos - these four haven't appeared yet, and I thought I'd put them in. **

..::..--.--..::..

Disclaimer :: All things Harry Potter are owned by JK Rowling, and it would be quite an insult to her if I were to claim them as my own wouldn't it? _¡No es mina!_

Rating :: See Chapters 1-3.

'Tis The Season of Summertime

Written by Matt Silver

..::..--.--..::..

On the previous adventure... Harry arrived at Greengrass Manor and got the money from the unknowing family and helped Daphne escape (Though she had it mostly figured out). After parting ways, Harry quickly visited the Burrow to get some more garden gnomes, but was met by Dumbledore. After parting his way with a shower of gnome blood, Harry bought the necessary supplies at Knockturn Alley to escape the country. On the way out, he was met by Bellatrix Lestrange, and what followed was a duel for the ages. Bellatrix was killed, and Harry left the country. Meanwhile, Minister Fudge's final days in office went from bad to worse, and he was appropriately fired. Thank god.

Chapter 4 :: Toeing and Fingering the Line

..::..--.--..::..

September 1st, 1996 ::

It was a warm day, not unusual for the first day of Autumn, but it was welcome nonetheless. A young woman decided to do something different that same day, by entering the secret train platform from its secret entrance instead of being Apparated by her mother directly there. So, Daphne Greengrass begun a staring contest with the brick wall in front of her, wondering if it really was the entrance to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Seriously, magic was magic and all that, but running into a brick wall required a leap in faith. Or rather, a run of faith into a potentially face-breaking barrier.

"So I just run into a wall?" Daphne murmured sceptically. "Really?"

Without looking around to see if anybody was watching, she slowly strolled, trunk first, into the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Upon arriving on the other side, Daphne was met with a long line being combed by Aurors holding deluxe Dark Detectors. She rolled her eyes and waited patiently as a tall Auror with a flat nose poked her belongings with the detector. The man seemed tempted to keep Daphne behind and poke _her _a little, but one look at the Slytherin's narrowed eyes promptly ran him off.

After leaving the Aurors and their detectors, Daphne made her way onto the train and found a compartment. She deposited her trunk and Roscoe the hedgehog's cage on the luggage rack. A minute passed before she wondered if her sister had arrived yet, and how that particular meeting would go down. Unfortunately, Astoria Greengrass was just as pompous as her father when she wanted to be.

Indeed, if the younger Greengrass was to write in a diary (And Daphne had a sneaking suspicion she did), it would probably say something along the lines of: '_Today I was pompous and blah blah blah. Oh, and Draco Malfoy pushed me out of the way earlier to get to the Great Hall and get some dinner first. I think it's true love_.'

Daphne snickered, an action caught by the teen standing at her compartment door. It was Harry Potter, complete with messy raven black hair, electrifying green eyes and a slight tan. Harry looked rather surprised to see the Greengrass teen and former partner-in-crime, especially considering that she had said that she wasn't coming back to Hogwarts this year.

"What's so funny?" Harry asked coyly.

"Oh, it's my sister," Daphne replied. "She's kind of pompous, like my father, and I imagined that she wrote in a diary saying-"

"'Today I was pompous and... et cetera?"

Daphne smirked a little. "And how did you know that?"

"I've thought the same of your father," Harry said smoothly. He then decided to tackle the elephant in the room. So, as he settled into the compartment easily, he asked, "So, you're back this year?"

"Contrary to what I said back in Canada and again a few days ago, I'm back."

"You're a complex woman of contradictions, it seems."

She raised an eyebrow. "And you're a man who owes me an explanation before you get mine."

Harry shrugged. "What's there to explain?"

"I don't know," Daphne said, voice laced with sarcasm. "How about you start with the fact that you're not in prison right now. Last time I saw you, you were in quite a bind. How about an explanation?"

"Hmm... I don't know," Harry said teasingly.

Now Daphne was a woman who learnt an essential fact from her mother a long time ago. A witch using one's femininity to one's advantage is an essential when dealing with some wizards. Now Daphne wasn't going to use her own assets in a Pansy Parkinson-esque proportion, but she thought it would be worth it this time to get a reaction out of Harry, as well as to hear his story. So, she carefully unbuttoned the top button of her blouse, eyeing his reaction. To her glee, he reddened a bit and smiled stupidly.

"I think I may have a story to tell after all," Harry spluttered. Daphne smiled and sat back in her seat.

"This ought to be good."

..::..--.--..::..

August 28th, 1996 ::

"Give it up, Potter. We have you surrounded!"

"No you don't! _Confringo_!" Harry shouted, aiming at a random shelf of pranking items. The shelf exploded, raining shrapnel on the others in the store. Harry ran forward and Trip Jinx'd the feet of the two Aurors. They both went down, but the male quickly recovered. Harry had no time, so he rapidly kicked the man in the chest before leaving the store. Once outside, he ran like hell in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. He pushed through a light crowd of shoppers, only feeling slightly remorseful about accidentally kneeing some poor young Muggleborn kid in the family jewels.

Unfortunately, the sharp head pain returned when Harry entered the pub, and he almost fell over in the process. He stumbled through the small crowd and into the pub, taking cover in the nearest booth. The Anti-Apparation wards were up, so his best bet was to go through the front door and into the Muggle world. But, it was just his luck that the head pain continued with extra ferocity, causing him to drop to his knees and close his eyes.

"Fuck," he cursed. He had been in serious situations without Sirius before, but the absence was really starting to piss him off.

_"Wait!"_

..::..--.--..::..

September ::

"Back up, Harry," Daphne chided. "Rewind and tell me what happened after you left England. That's what I unbuttoned the top button of my blouse to hear."

Harry shook his head. "Sorry. Anyway-"

..::..--.--..::..

August ::

The month of August was a fun time for Harry Potter and Sirius Black. The two travelled from British Virgin Islands (Where Harry met Doctor Antonio and was healed from his encounter with Bellatrix Lestrange) to Northern America's magical monuments. After a few days in America, the two headed down to Australia's sunny shores for some more beach-related fun (i.e. ogling Australian women) and some deep sea diving. From Australia was to Italy, and playing tourist in the Roman colosseums and the magical culture in Venice. A week before he was scheduled to go back to England, Harry received some mail from Hedwig.

"Hi girl," he greeted, patting his owl's head absentmindedly. "How long have you been looking for me?"

The owl didn't reply verbally, but gestured to the letter in Harry's hands. He opened it and read Hermione's familiar handwriting.

_Dear Harry,_

_Things have been hectic since you left, or when I assumed you left. If you left the day after your birthday as Ron and I thought, you missed some major news._

_First off, Bellatrix Lestrange was found dead in Knockturn Alley, which is good news. Someone cleaned her up pretty good, and I mean in two ways. One, she was 'cleaned up' as in killed, and cleaned as in actually cleaned off the street. Apparently, there's still a bloodstain splattered on the pavement, but I haven't seen it outside of pictures. Also, several other low-level Death Eaters were killed by vampires! Vampires! The media is having a field day with that, and Headmaster Dumbledore has a theory that you're responsible somehow._

_But you're not, right?_

_Right?_

_Anyway, Minister Fudge was sacked and subsequently replaced by Rufus Scrimgeour, the former Head Auror. Percy is still in work, but I haven't talked with him much. Scrimgeour is working closely with the Auror Office to arrest all the spies in the Ministry, but he's reportedly trying to get Dumbledore's help. And failing at it._

_Well, that's all I had planned to write, so I'm hoping you're okay, Harry._

_Seriously, I'm disowning you if you end up dead in the Australian outback or something. Watch out for the gnomes there._

_Sincerely,_

_Hermione_

"All good on the home front," Harry remarked. He sent off a quick reply with Hedwig before heading back to his holiday.

After another two days in Italy, Harry Portkey'd over to Canada. While there, he visited Canada's magical school, Maple Leaf, under the alias of Harrison Ravenwood (As Sirius joked, it was also Harry's porn name) to attend their Open Day exhibition. Harry had a quite a time touring the buildings made with steel and not stone, the Quidditch Pitch underground and with no outside weather interference, and the above ground Potions Laboratory, thankfully inhabited by a man with a sense of personal hygiene. After the day was done, Harry had toured his first non-Hogwarts magical school, and was suitably impressed by it all.

"Nice place," Harry noted later that night.

"If you ever need an escape plan..." Sirius added.

Harry had used a post owl in Italy to send a brief letter to Daphne Greengrass, who was apparently staying in Canada for the rest of the summer with the Davis family. She had given the reply with Lanky the house elf, and told him he was welcome for a quick visit on his travels. Included in the letter were the basics of where to Apparate to, and thus, he was all set to go on his last day in Canada.

..::..--.--..::..

September ::

"And you want me to recite my visit to you?" Harry asked. Daphne nodded, a slight smile gracing her features. "Alrighty-"

..::..--.--..::..

August ::

"Hello, Bullsh- I mean, Harry!" Daphne greeted, sitting on a bench outside of the woodwork cottage belonging to the Davis family. As she explained in her letter, Daphne was staying with her friend Tracey Davis and the parent Davises at their summer home located in the vast and warded woodland belonging to wizards and witches in the country.

"DG," Harry returned, nodding. He smiled widely. "Enjoying the emancipated life?"

Daphne nodded in agreement. "Oh yeah. My parents sent a dozen letters begging me back and all kinds of threats. They even threatened to sic Roscoe on me, before they realised I had him."

"That evil hedgehog?"

Daphne frowned a little. "He's not evil, just misunderstood."

"Surrrrre..."

"Anyway, they then threatened to set the rest of the hedgehog farm after me, but I reminded them that I had their leader. Those little genetic fuck-ups would follow Roscoe over a cliff if he asked."

"Oh yeah?" Harry considered, suddenly wondering if having his own army of hedgehog/sugar plant hybrids would be beneficial. "But I'm not that evil..." he added wistfully.

Daphne gestured to the bench with her, and Harry took a seat, rummaging through his pockets as he did so. Eventually, he pulled out an action figure he bought while in America. The little magical figure was of a woman repeatedly sticking her wand to her temple and firing some unknown spell, blasting her brains out in a flashy light show. The light would then retract and the woman would off herself again. And again. And again. Harry had found the little gal in a magical toy store, and transfigured it appropriately as a present.

"Hear about what happened to Bellatrix Lestrange?" Harry asked Daphne, handing her the little Bellatrix Lestrange figure. Harry had also added some blood around the woman's legs for extra effect, since he couldn't charm the right leg off at the knee. "I bought this little thing in America, and I said to myself: 'Wouldn't that go great if it was transfigured as the recently deceased Bella Lestrange?'. Then I agreed with myself and did the spellwork. I thought you might appreciate it."

"You thought I might appreciate a figurine of Bellatrix Lestrange blowing her brains out?" Daphne said sceptically. "You really have a way with women."

"You can't judge, you showed me your pet hedgehog."

"Touché."

Harry and Daphne (Or their criminal aliases, Bullshit and DG) spent another twenty or so minutes discussing Britain-y stuff, like Death Eaters, Dumbledore, Fudge, Death Eaters, the Chudley Cannons and hedgehog farms. Daphne had grown up around the little creatures, and happily shared her tips for taming them ("The trick is warm water. They're scared of it. By the way, it works on my sister too."). Somehow, hedgehog conversation veered into coffee, which veered into Australia's founding years ("Back in the day, being sent to Australia was equivalent to a Dementor's Kiss at the Ministry."), which veered into the Knight Bus' third floor, and the conversation finally went back to hedgehogs again after a crude joke of Harry's involving Umbridge and what she can fit in her orifices.

After blocking out _that_ particular mental image, it was story-time.

"So then Sirius says: 'Read it? I already ruined it!'," Harry recited, laughing at the memory. Daphne joined in, always a fan of vulgarity humour. "And here's the kicker. Eventually, Mrs Weasley threw the Dark Arts book out, right, and never noticed the Playwizard magazine stuck in there."

Daphne stiffled a snort. "No way."

"Until three days later when she found Kreacher hoarding the same book. When she took it away from that stupid elf, she finally realised what Sirius had meant by 'ruined it'."

"Oh my god," Daphne said disbelievingly. "And then what?"

Harry, turning red from laughing too much, continued on, "Sirius blamed it on Fred and George, who blamed it on Ron, who blamed it on Mundungus Fletcher, who blamed it on Remus, who used some kind of spell and confirmed it was Sirius' product. And wouldn't you know it, Sirius managed to spell the book onto Remus' crotch for six hours!"

The pair laughed a bit more, and finally stopped when it was appropriate.

"So," Harry started. "Are you coming back to Hogwarts this year?"

If possible, Daphne's expression got a little bitter. "Too risky. I leave the castle for a bit to go to Hogsmeade, and I'm Death Eater bait. No, I like the idea of going to Maple Leaf - the Canadian magical school."

"I've seen it, it's nice."

Daphne smiled at him. "Sorry, Bullshit, but we can't do any scamming this year at Hogwarts."

"Oh the horror," Harry said mock-worriedly. He technically hadn't thought about pulling anymore cons during the year like his summer one, but it would've been fun. "We could've tricked Dumbledore into freeing the house elves, and then the castle would starve!"

"Oooh, fun!" Daphne purred. "Or we could-"

..::..--.--..::..

September ::

"Although, that's kind of moot, now," Harry said. "But moot in a good way. Considering that at the time, we were just talking hypothetical. Now-"

"-We can do some of those things." Daphne finished. Her previous slight smile was in full bloom now, and Harry was compelled to finish off the rest of the story.

..::..--.--..::..

August ::

And the conversation continued like that for another few minutes, before being interrupted by the sound of several POPs, indicating the Apparation of three figures. One Harry knew instantly, another Harry got after a while, and the third he had no idea who it was. And, moments later, he was being reintroduced to Neville Longbottom, Tracey Davis and introduced to Leonardo Davis.

"What's going on here?" Harry wondered. The appearance of Neville out here in Canada was quite flummoxing. "Nev?"

"Hey Harry," he said warmly. Although he was still the slightly chubby boy Harry knew from a few months back, Neville Longbottom had changed. Something about him. Another story for another day perhaps...

"Neville's been staying with Tracey and her parents for most of the summer," Daphne explained. "Training most of the time."

Harry was still confused, and his newly formed slight headache wasn't helping matters. "Training?"

"There was an attack on our home back in July," Neville said solemnly. "Bellatrix and several of her cronies did some damage, and I was determined to learn how to fight. Luckily, Gran had a favour to call with Mr Davis here -"

"Call me Leo," Leo Davis added. He was a tall imposing figure, not unlike Viridian-Lawn Greengrass, but he was missing the stern look and the desperation in his eyes that the Greengrass patriarch had. Instead, he had a beard. A really big one.

Neville acknowledged with a slight nod. "And he offered to train me up. And Tracey was all to willing to join in."

Harry nodded along, indicating he basically understood. Meanwhile, Tracey, a young woman with dark red hair and large spectacles, was chatting to Daphne about something girl-related.

"And then I heard that Bellatrix was killed," Neville said hollowly. He had a slight smile on his face though, so it wasn't all bad for him.

Harry swelled a little in pride. Leo Davis noticed his reaction, but didn't comment.

After exchanging more pleasantries, Harry was invited to dinner, getting a few stories of Neville and Tracey's training by a former Hitwizard. The others having dinner (Daphne, Neville, Tracey, Leo and Leo's wife - Cass) were all curious about Harry's little adventure during this holiday, and he was momentarily stumped at the fact everyone knew he had helped Daphne escape the country.

"So much for secrecy," he muttered. Daphne, sitting beside him, nodded and smiled sheepishly.

"Tracey figured it out when I mentioned I got some extra money and help from one of our classmates."

"And I told Neville," Tracey piped up. "One of my father's first rules is to never keep possibly information from your Hitwizard partner."

Harry accepted that and explained the basics of his holiday without sounding like a lunatic. Of course, that endeavour was difficult when the story started with him escaping his Muggle home, exploring the Knight Bus' third floor (At that point, Neville, Tracey, Leo and Cass shuddered. They had apparently heard the rumours), and the whole scam against the Greengrasses. To save face, he did not mention Sirius Black's ressurection as an Occlumency shield, nor the extreme details of the less-than-legal things he did over the summer, such as the hiring of vampires to kill Death Eater scum. Eventually, Harry got to his eventual leaving of England, and saw fit to mention his encounter with Bellatrix Lestrange.

Needless to say, the people hearing that story were shocked.

"Holy shit," Neville cursed. In fact, it was probably the first time Harry had heard his friend swear.

After a light dessert and talking about Bellatrix's bloody end some more (Funnily enough, the dessert was accompanied by a strawberry syrup-like concoction that reminded the entire group of blood), it was time for Neville to head home, and Harry took his cue to leave too. He didn't really understand what kind of crazy time schedule Neville, Tracey and Leo were on, but it was something to do with the time differences from Canada to England and blah, blah, blah. After saying some goodbyes, Harry and Neville walked to the edge of the cottage's wards.

"Are you Apparating to England, Nev?" Harry asked curiously.

Neville shook his head. "Long-distance Apparation is almost impossible. Leo side-alonged me and Tracey, stopping four times on the way. But I just have my family's Portkey." He gestured to the ring on his finger and gave Harry a little wave. Without further adieu, he activated it, disappearing into the night.

Before Harry could Apparate back to his hotel room, Daphne appeared at the front door of the cottage and called out:

"Keep in touch!"

Harry smiled, gave her a wave goodbye and nodded in affirmation. "Anytime."

..::..--.--..::..

August ::

The next day started badly. For one, Sirius decided to rouse Harry from his dream in the most unpleasant way a mind-reading entity could. Unfortunately, this entity was lacking creativity, so he settled with making the most obnoxious noise he could, as loud as he could. So, without even blinking, Sirius made the noise.

Harry moaned and slipped out of bed. "What was that noise?"

"We can go with two choices here," Sirius said, grinning. "Choice one is that it was simply the most obnoxious noise I could make at will, or I could say that a house elf is masturbating under your bed."

Harry shuddered and headed to the bathroom. After a quick shower and several other morning bathroom pursuits, Harry finally asked a burning question.

"Where have you been off to?"

Sirius smiled impishly, not prepared to divulge anything. "Miss me?"

Harry wouldn't admit to that, so he settled with continuing his packing. Sometimes, Sirius could just be annoying.

"Heard that," Sirius interjected, steamrolling any future train of thought. "And I thought it would be best if you were on your own for a bit. You don't need me cramping your style every time with that girl."

Harry snorted, picking up some stray socks as he did so. "Sirius, remember when we were in Australia? I was talking to that perfectly nice girl, and you were peppering me with constant tips. My favourite one was you suggesting I show her my wand, and make a snide remark about its woodiness."

"What about that?"

"She was a Muggle, Sirius."

Sirius slapped his head. "Oh right. Anyway, do you have a point?"

"Not really. Just curious."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Curiosity resulted in several STD's for a particular cat."

Harry accepted that answer, and dropped the subject. He successfully packed up the hotel room and went downstairs to check out. After doing that, he visited a nearby bathroom, entered a stall, and Apparated to Iroquoian Alley, one of Canada's four magical alleys, located in the heart of Toronto. The other three were scattered throughout the country in the provinces of Nova Scotia, Quebec and British Columbia. The bustling magical alley was hidden by an unassuming cheese shop, surrounded by taller buildings where actual business took place. Business relating to maple syrup, no doubt.

Harry's first stop in the magical marketplace was a small store that specialised in heavy-duty combat gear. At Sirius' insistence, Harry had purchased a leather wand holster, specially modified for an extra price. The holster was magically tuned to fit Harry's arm, grow as it did, and could double as a leg or thigh holster if need be. It could also become invisible at will, prevent the wand inside from being summoned, and all kinds of bonuses like that. To Harry's dismay, the wand holster wasn't quite the right colour when visible.

"Wow," Sirius said, chortling. "It's pin-"

"Light red," Harry hissed. "It's light red or I'm going to find a way to kill you."

"Again."

"Again."

Harry placed his wand in the light red holster and strapped in under on his wrist, letting it and the wand go invisible for a spell (Get it?). After the holster came his next purchase - a cooler of discount Butterbeer, enough to survive him to November at the least. After placing the cooler in his bottomless loot bag, Harry headed into the _Palace of Cheese _to activate the Portkey.

"Hey Sirius, what's the time difference between here and London?" he asked, searching for the England Portkey.

"About five hours ahead," Sirius guessed. "Where did we program the Portkey to drop us off?"

Harry found the Portkey and tapped a hand to it. "The Leaky Cauldron. _Activate_."

Upon arriving back in depressing old England, Harry had to ask himself:

"Does that Portkey actually take me to the Leaky Cauldron?"

The answer to that was usually yes, but one of Minister Scrimgeour's newest laws included the tightening up of security in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. This meant the only Portkeys that could get through the wards had to be Ministry-issued. That also meant that Harry's Portkey, as an illegal one, would be diverted. Diverted to where? Why still the Leaky Cauldron, but a room guarded by two Aurors.

"Aurors!" Sirius hissed. Harry had no time to blink when two Stunners were thrown at him, and he barely avoided them by ducking slightly. Both spells hit the wall behind him, and he quickly flicked his wand into his hand from the holster, taking little to no aim at the two Aurors.

"_Reducto!" _he called. The wild aim was quite true, hitting the wall behind the two Aurors and forcing them to the ground. Harry ran like the dickens to the nearest door, emerging in the pub area of the Leaky Cauldron. He noticed a thick crowd between him and the exit to the Muggle world, and decided to chance himself into Diagon Alley. That would be his first mistake.

"That's Potter! Get him!" was heard from the room Harry just left, so he made a split-second decision and ended up in Diagon Alley. However, his Auror friends were still following, and both shot spells at him upon his exit of the pub. He rolled to the ground to avoid the spell, unknowingly losing his loot bag from his jeans pocket in the process. He kept on running though, bursting through a crowd of shoppers and diving for cover at _Flourish and Blotts_. It was then that he noticed his lack of loot bag.

"Where's my bag?" he muttered exasperatedly, patting his pockets. "Where's my fucking bag?"

"I think you dropped it," Sirius said in a small voice. He ran ahead and spotted Harry's two Aurors. One was a male with a moustache and no eyepatch, while the other was a woman with no moustache and a black eyepatch. Sirius groaned when he spotted Harry's loot bag in the hands of the female one.

"They've got it," Harry said dejectedly. "Everything I own is in that bag."

"Are you a wizard with a pink wand holster or not?" Sirius asked. "Summon it back!"

Harry rolled his eyes (Wondering why he didn't think of it before) and took aim.

"_Accio loot bag!_" he intoned. To his relief, the bag sailed out of the hands of the female Auror and towards his own. To his horror, the two Aurors spotted him in the process. Acting quickly, Harry diverted the trajectory of the bag by Banishing it upwards into the air. He pushed through the shoppers and quickly put up a Shield Charm to block the Aurors' light spell volley. Several shoppers in the crowd ran like sheep to avoid the spellfire between the three fighters, and Harry looked to the sky for his bag.

The loot bag was sailing downwards at a leisurely pace, and Harry decided it was probably best to get the bag and get out of dodge, before anyone else could identify him. Unfortunately, someone did.

"It's Harry Potter!" a crazed old woman screamed for all she was worth. Harry glared at her, getting hit with the male Auror's Jab Jinx in the process. He recoiled with the hit, and started to think of a new plan. Short of cursing the old woman who identified him, the plan mill was running low. It was only after getting hit with a Stinging Hex that he decided to act.

"Catch the bag first," he decided. He pointed his wand at the bag and spelled it to chase him above his head, until such a time could be that he could catch it. "Can't Apparate out of here until I get to the Muggle world-"

"That's a problem with war, isn't it?" Sirius said. "They never usually put up the Anti-Apparation wards, but as soon as some Muggleborns start dying..."

"Or I get to a Floo... but that would take way too long. And if I get caught with the bag, they'll confiscate my stuff," Harry continued. The stuff included all his current money, the Invsibility Cloak, the Firebolt recovered from Umbridge at the end of the term, his little knick knacks picked up on holiday, and all his clothes and alike. He sent three low-powered Banishers at the Aurors and looked across the street. Sure enough, _Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes _was standing tall and proud, coloured a garish violet and orange colour.

"Idea!" Harry exclaimed. The loot bag had finally reached him, and he caught it deftly. Ignoring Sirius' pleas of not going through with it, Harry dashed across the cobblestone street to the Weasley twins' joke shop. He ignored the customers and ran up to the front counter, where George was eating a sandwich. However, pleasantries weren't exchanged, as Harry only had a minute before the Aurors reached him, so he got straight to the point.

"Jesus, Harry!" George Weasley commented, rubbing his chest. "A Specialised Straight-To-The-Point-Jab-In-The-Chest Spell?"

Harry shook his head and passed off the loot bag. "Protect this with your life, George, or I will kill you. If the Aurors come, you never had it. Dissillusion it and hide it, and give it to me when I show up. And don't look in it. Or prank it."

"Oh really?" George said, a wicked grin on his face. He took the bag and hid it under the counter. "And if I do prank it?"

Harry spotted his pursuers outside the shop window, so spoke quickly and with as much venom as he could. "Hear about what happened to Bellatrix Lestrange, George? I will shrink your kneecap, destroy it and crush your head onto the street."

George got the message and paled considerably. Just then, the two Aurors barged into the store, scaring the three customers in the store (A mother and two children, who were already looking at Harry warily). The male Auror took charge, clearing his throat and holding his wand steady.

"Harry Potter, I am Auror Stern, and this is Auror Rebell. I have standing orders, signed by the Head of the Auror Office and co-signed by Minister Rufus Scrimgeour himself, to bring you in under any circumstances, and at all costs. You charges will be read at such a time as all of them can be compiled by Director Bones of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and they are available to read by the highest ranking authority figure."

"Gee thanks," Harry said sarcastically. "Is it really that much of a crime to buy illegal Portkeys?"

"Running from two Aurors and fighting them in broad daylight gets a little extra jail time," the female Auror replied.

"Oh that," Harry said dismissively. "And why were you on standing orders to bring me in?"

The Aurors shared a look, and fixed their wands at Harry's chest area.

"Confidential," the female grunted. "Our orders from Head Auror Robards were to bring you in by whatever means necessary. And it's our lucky day when you turn out to be a customer at Brian Summerby's illegal Portkey store."

Harry subtly lowered his wand, pointing it to the floor. "And what did Brian Summerby do to get arrested?"

"Suspected Death Eater association," the female Auror said. "He had taken down the anti-Portkey wards in his store, as you saw. That's illegal. If someone of questionable morals had access to that area, a strategic attack could take place."

"Or they could come through the Floo, especially since there's like one in every store," Harry said sarcastically. Seriously, why were Aurors spending their days looking at small ward problems that could be fixed, as well as little problems such as him? Why did this Head Auror Robards want him imprisoned?

"Nobody likes you," Sirius said, surveying the situation with a detached interest. "I would not recommend being arrested. George has the bag, and you can get yourself out of here. We lay low at the old camping spot for a bit, then come back and get the bag. The Aurors won't get you at Hogwarts. It's a win win."

Harry nodded, not really understanding what was going on. But, he had faced a 50-foot Basilisk, so what were two Aurors going to do?

..::..--.--..::..

September ::

"And I said to myself that I had faced a sixty-foot Basilisk," Harry continued. "Scratch that, the Basilisk was at least sixty-five feet long."

Daphne urged him to continue. "Why did the Aurors want you arrested? And why didn't you just take the bag and run like hell? Or take the Weasley's Floo?"

Harry considered it. "Well, the important thing is that I didn't. Besides, I don't think that Fred and George had the Floo all set up. That, and my headache was starting to piss me off. Clouding my judgement and all that."

"And you never suspected the Aurors might have been Death Eaters?"

"Are you kidding? Of course I thought they might of been Death Eaters..."

..::..--.--..::..

August ::

The stalemate continued. Harry had no doubts the two were Aurors sent to arrest him, and not a single other thought crossed his mind. Suddenly, a sharp pain pierced the back of his head, although no spell had hit him.

"My head hurts," he muttered, rubbing it. He did notice that Sirius had disappeared, and that the two Aurors were moving closer, intent on finally catching him off guard and arresting him. That's it, it was time to get out there.

"Give it up, Potter. We have you surrounded!"

"No you don't! _Confringo_!" Harry shouted, aiming at a random shelf of pranking items. The shelf exploded, raining shrapnel on the others in the store. Harry ran forward and Trip Jinx'd the feet of the two Aurors. They both went down, but the male quickly recovered. Harry had no time, and rapidly kicked the man in the chest before leaving the store. Once outside, he ran like hell in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. He pushed through a light crowd of shoppers, only feeling slightly remorseful about accidentally kneeing some poor young Muggleborn kid in the family jewels.

Unfortunately, the sharp head pain returned when Harry entered the pub, and Harry almost fell over in the process. He stumbled through the small crowd and into the pub, taking cover in the nearest booth. The Anti-Apparation wards were up, so his best bet was to go through the front door and into the Muggle world. But, it was just his luck that the head pain continued with extra ferocity, causing him to drop to his knees and close his eyes.

"Fuck," he cursed. He had been in serious situations without Sirius before, but the absence was really starting to piss him off.

Whatever extra luck Harry had just left the building, as the two Aurors entered the pub, wands in hand and covered in minor scrapes. Both were looking pretty pissed off about their lot in life at the moment, and Harry could admit that he was basically responsible. It turned out they were as relentless as they were prone to hyperbole, what with the 'Give it up, you're surrounded!' comment earlier. But, the two Aurors weren't deterred, as they approached Tom the barkeep and asked if he had seen Harry Potter.

And that old bastard pointed directly to Harry's hiding spot.

"Is this because I stole Firewhisky from you?" Harry asked the barkeep moments later. Aurors Stern and Rebell had disarmed the Boy-Who-Lived quickly and cleanly, before leading him to a conference room upstairs. Once in the room, Harry was seated and met with two sets of glares. One glare was just an eye and an eyepatch, but it was no less intimidating.

"What's up?" he said, trying to break the ice. And like an Eskimo armed only with long fingernails, he failed miserably.

Auror Stern lived up to his last name and adopted a... err... stern look. "As I was saying back in the joke shop, myself and Auror Rebell had standing orders to bring you in to Head Auror Robards and Minister Scrimgeour."

Harry nodded, understanding that part. "Why, though?"

Stern shared another one of those conspiratorial looks with his partner, but decided to clarify this time around. "We were told that you were a danger while you were out and about, and needed to be brought in. Minister Scrimgeour gave those orders to Head Auror Robards himself."

"The Minister said it would be for your own protection," Rebell added, fiddling with her eyepatch. As she did so, Harry caught a glimpse of the fleshy eye hole underneath.

"Gross."

"I know."

Stern cleared his throat. "Auror Rebell, what aren't you doing?"

Rebell thought it over for a moment. "I'm not informing the Head Auror that we got him."

Stern indicated to the door, and Rebell left to make a Floo call. Once she was gone, the male Auror shook his head and rummaged around in his robes. He eventually found a pair of ordinary looking Muggle handcuffs, and unlocked them.

"Hands out," he said by way of indication.

Harry eyed the handcuffs warily. "Are you serious?"

"Almost always. It's part of the job."

"Didn't you ever visit the circus as a child?" Harry questioned. "I mean, I never did, but I least I can smile."

Stern didn't look the slightest bit amused. "I visited the circus once, and left after a few minutes."

"Is this a very serious crime?" Harry asked.

"Well, Potter, I did not find their tomfoolery amusing in the slightest."

"I was talking about my... thing," Harry corrected, holding out his arms. Stern slapped the handcuffs on, locking them successfully. Harry instantly felt a light push on his magic, and correctly guessed that there was a magic-supressing spell on them. That meant he couldn't just Apparate away at the first chance. But, considering the head pain he felt at the moment, he didn't think he could pull off a successful Apparation.

After being cuffed, Harry felt unnerved with the unmoving stare his Auror captor was projecting to him.

"Show me happy," Harry taunted. The Auror's face muscles didn't even twitch. "Show me sad!"

No change.

"Silly?"

"..."

"Amused, bemused, c-mused?"

"..."

"Show me stern! Oh wait, you've got that down, old buddy."

"..."

"Not old as in, 'Oh my, you must have a coffin picked out and everything!'. Just old, as in like, we've known each other for a long time."

"..."

"Remember when you tried to curse me back in the street? Or when I got hit by your Jab Jinx? Good times, old buddy."

"..."

"You know what would be cool? If you took off these cuffs and LET ME THE FUCK GO!"

..::..--.--..::..

September ::

"Real mature, Harry," Daphne said, shaking her head. But there was a smile on her dial, so Harry knew she didn't mind. In fact, Harry guessed correctly that she was holding back a torrent of very unladylike laughter.

"So, yeah, we chatted like that for another minute or so, until the girl Auror came back..."

..::..--.--..::..

August ::

"Robards is in a meeting with Scrimgeour all afternoon. His assistant told me to bring Potter in a few hours or so," Rebell informed. She took a seat across from Harry and next to Stern, who was ignoring the teen in front of him with a passion.

"Can't we unload the boy now?" Stern half-whined.

Rebell shook her head. "No can do, boss. But, I talked to Auror Tonks for a bit. She said she can come and guard Harry for a bit while we head out into London."

"London?" Stern said.

"London," Rebell confirmed. "There's been a Dementor sighting apparently. But we can't exactly trust the source. I mean, it was that Billson fellow... what's his name. Billson."

"I don't care."

A few quiet minutes passed as Harry twiddled his thumbs and counted the bricks on the wall in front of him. Stern, meanwhile, was staring directly at Harry again, not moving, while Rebell picked at her eye hole for a bit ("It gets clogged with dust and stuff," she told Harry). Thankfully, two familiar faces entered the small room, and Rebell stopped her disgusting task.

"Senior Auror Stern," greeted Nymphadora Tonks, nodding politely to Rebell and winking at Harry. Her hair was a spiky orange colour today, and it matched nicely with the crazy standing next to her. "This is my intern for the summer, Luna Lovegood."

The odd Lovegood girl ignored all others in the room and went over to Harry's side of the table. She placed her hands on Harry's shoulder and started to hum an indistinct tune.

"Nice to see you too?" Harry said. Luna continued to hum placidly, and Harry turned to Tonks. "What the hey?"

Tonks ignored him and turned to the other two Aurors. "You better get going. Savage is at the crime scene, and he's found a victim of the Dementor's Kiss."

"Thank you, Auror Tonks." With that, Stern and Rebell handed Harry's wand over to Tonks and left, the former slamming the door with a little extra force as he left. It seemed Harry's reverse interrogation pissed him off a little.

"Well well well," Tonks said cheekily, twirling Harry's wand in her fingers. "Well well well."

"Well well well," Harry repeated. "Well, how about you explain why Scrimgeour is going to all this trouble to get into his hands. Well, how about you tell me what the hell Luna's doing here, and well, what the hell is SHE DOING TO MY SHOULDER?"

..::..--.--..::..

September ::

Pleasant laughter rang through the compartment, stopping Harry's story suddenly. Harry relished the sound until the laughter passed the ten second mark, and Daphne's humour at his predicament suddenly became less funny for him. His eyes narrowed as the pureblood-raised girl lost all control and started banging the wall with her fist.

"It's not funny!" Harry cried indignantly.

"Yes it is!"

..::..--.--..::..

August ::

After patting the remains of Luna's greeting off of his shoulder, Harry turned to glare at the blonde.

"What. The. Fuck."

"I had to repel the Fuzzy Norwarts!" Luna exclaimed. "They fester in-"

"I get it. Tonks, why is she hanging with you? Luna, aren't you supposed to be in Sweden?"

Luna shrugged. "The Snorcack hunt ended the day we ran out of mayonnaise. Instead, we had to print a bigger story on the Rotfang Conspiracy. You know about the Rotfang Conspiracy, surely?"

"No... wha- just no."

"So they've got to you too," Luna whispered sadly.

Harry turned to the saner person in the room, which wasn't saying much, considering she flipped out over her name on a daily basis. Harry even noticed the badge of her robes had 'Auror Ny-Tonks Tonks' written on it. "Tonks, answers."

"Luna came to the Auror Department and asked to follow one of the Aurors around to research her story for the _Quibbler_," Tonks explained, grinning. "So, I took her under my wing and showed her the Aurors with bad teeth."

"I've loads of information of the conspiracy now!" Luna said excitedly.

"And you, Tonks? Why are you here?" Harry asked.

Tonks frowned. "You're in deep trouble, aren't you? Escaping from Privet Drive is bad enough, but hiring vampires to attack Death Eaters?"

"I did not!" Harry cried. "Is that what Dumbledore's been saying?"

"That's what he suspects," Tonks corrected. "After Snape's house was burnt down, he had a right to suspect you were involved."

"Wow, what a crazy random happenstance," Harry muttered, not the slightest bit sorry for Snape's turn in fortune.

"And I have no clue why Scrimgeour wants to talk to you."

For once, Harry had a theory. "Hermione sent me a letter while I was... somewhere. Anyway, she mentioned that Scrimgeour is trying to cosy up to Dumbledore and get some war-related help. Would handing me over to the old man help his campaign?"

"Harry, you make it sound like Dumbledore has it in for you," said Tonks.

Harry shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "I must be crazy, then!"

"Now you know," Luna said sagely. Before Harry could reply, Luna hitched up her skirt to reveal a smooth pale leg. What was odd about it was that a watch was strapped around said leg, and Luna had to bend her head in order to read the time. Harry, being the man he was, couldn't help but watch and enjoy (Though he was sure that he would omit said enjoyment if he was telling this story to a girl he may or may not like. Cough, Daphne, cough). "Oh, I have to get going, Auror Tonks."

Tonks waved her off. "See you tomorrow, then."

Luna stood up and winked to Harry. "Watch out for the Fuzzy Norwarts."

"Please, never repel them off how you did before. Please," Harry moaned. Luna skipped out of the room without another word, and Tonks let loose a sigh of relief.

"She's a headache sometimes, that girl."

Harry nodded along, remembering his own headache. It had disappeared when the magic-supressing handcuffs came on, but it had returned in full force after a while. Combined with the mysterious disappearance of Sirius, it was starting to bother him. But surely, what with him being under arrest and all that, it couldn't be all bad, right?

Right?

..::..--.--..::..

September ::

"Here's where the story gets a little foggy," Harry explained. "I mean, I know exactly what I was doing at the time, but it's a little hard to explain what he was up to."

"Try me," Daphne said challengingly.

"Okay, first you need to remember all that stuff I told you about my Occlumency training," Harry said.

Daphne nodded, recalling their meeting the same day that Harry was reciting in full detail; four days ago. Sure, Harry was still arrested at the time, but she remembered. "Black was your Occlumency shield et cetera. I remember."

Harry nodded, and put himself in the mindset of Sirius Black.

..::..--.--..::..

August, Location Unknown ::

It had taken him all of three days, but it had finally happened. There was something niggling at him for weeks, ever since Harry left England, and that something was like a bad itch gained after an successful night out. It itched like hell and he was too embarrassed to say anything, nor confront the culprit about where the itch could've come from. Because the itch sure didn't come from him! He took his potions and made sure it was all fine down there, yes sir! It must've been that dirty girl at the bar the other night, he thought. But why-

"Getting off topic," he muttered. And then he realised he had talked aloud. And for once, it didn't feel like he was in someone else's head, but he was in his own head. If that made any sense.

Sirius Black blinked a few times to regain his bearings, and noticed the room he was in was a blinding white colour, with white walls, a white roof, and, hell, Sirius was so happy when he noticed he was still wearing black robes. He wasn't so happy when he realised that his legs were stiff and he couldn't move at the moment.

"Where am I?" he asked, his voice echoing in the mysterious room. "The afterlife again? I mean, I just got out of that place! Come on, Sirius B., take yourself back inside of Harry's head."

Five minutes of willing himself to head into Harry's mind only accomplished a headache, culminating from severe frustration. In those five minutes, he remembered that it had taken a week or so to get into Harry's head, and he doubted he could do it again.

"And I'm back here," Sirius said. After being thrown into the Veil by Bellatrix Lestrange (God rest her kitten-killing soul) back in June, Sirius' body never woke up. Only his mind stayed active, and his mind never saw a damn thing thanks to his body being unconscious. So, he had found his way into Harry's head from there, but that was different. Somehow, possibly with Bellatrix's death, Sirius' body inside the Veil had woken up. And that had been bugging Sirius for a month or so.

He spent a little time every day trying to see if he could get back into his body (For lack of nothing else to really do, as well as the fact that he thought he could will himself back as Harry's Occlumency shield). Three days ago, he had successfully breached his mind again, and made his way back slowly, popping into Harry's head every now and then to say hello or bug him about house elf masturbation.

Sirius didn't know it yet, but the violent loss of Harry's Occlumency shield had given the teen a severe headache and weakened his focus. But, again, Sirius wouldn't know that for a bit.

"Is he awake now?" a voice suddenly asked. Sirius strained his ears and heard several whispers of confirmation and denials.

"But he was asleep for weeks! I thought they AK'd the poor bastard before putting him in here."

"I thought he had no brain."

"I thought he was orangutan flavoured."

"Easy, Bill. Easy."

Sirius' legs suddenly sprang back to life, so he stood up, scaring the crowd that had gathered around him. He saw at least a dozen men, all dressed in various styles of robe and of varying ages. He suddenly remembered that, in the old days, it was common to kill prisoners by chucking them in the Veil of Death.

"Are you all prisoners?" Sirius asked. He was met by thirteen or so nods, and one or two shakes of the head.

One of the ones denying it raised his hand to further his claim. "I was an Unspeakable. I... kind of fell in while eating a sandwich."

"Me too, but without the sandwich," Sirius said sympathetically. "All right. All of you, please screw off. Unlucky Unspeakable guy, you're with me."

The crowd dispersed to other parts of the blindingly white room, sitting down in random spots and discussing random things. Sirius tuned them out and turned to the Unspeakable guy, a short man wearing a tweed suit and with a mousy stature. His little moustache twitched every three seconds or so, but Sirius kindly didn't say a thing.

"Okay, I'm in the Veil," Sirius said slowly. The Unspeakable nodded, moustache twitching in full force.

"It's a gateway to the afterlife," the Unspeakable explained. "We can go on to the pearly gates whenever we choose. We just have to will ourselves there."

"Right," Sirius said. "How about willing yourself to leave the way you came?"

The Unspeakable shook his head. "Not possible, sir. Why do you think those prisoners and that one accountant are still here? They can't actually touch anything else but themselves or what they brought into the Veil with them. Try as we might, we can either stay here for eternity and do nothing, or move on."

"Where's my wand?" Sirius asked. The Unspeakable pointed to the piece of wood, lying on the ground near on of the other prisoners. Sirius waltzed over and picked up the wand, glad he could actually touch it. "Thank god."

"It's a bit useless," the Unspeakable informed. "My wand was with me too, and I can only do one spell."

"What?"

"Fungus Cleaning Charm," the Unspeakable admitted. "It was the last one I did before my... accident."

"And the last spell I used..." Sirius wondered. He pointed the wand at a random prisoner. "_Concusso_!"

The Concussion Hex, sadly, didn't hit the prisoner, who yelped when the spell sailed right through him. Said prisoner stood up and charged at Sirius, who just stood there and let the man run through him.

"You people must have fun here," Sirius murmured.

The Unspeakable shrugged. "We can only touch ourselves and nothing else. What do you think we can do apart from try and touch others?"

Sirius decided not to think about the implications of that statement, and paced the room. He stopped suddenly and tapped his foot irritably. "There must be some way out of here..."

"Said the joker to the thief," another prisoner piped up.

Another prisoner started to tap his foot in a familiar tune Sirius had heard during the crazy 70's. "There's too much confusion..."

"I can't get no relief!"

Three prisoners stood up and continued the song in a harmonious tune, "Businessmen, they drink my wine, plow men dig my earth!"

The Unspeakable piped up the next line, "None will level on the line."

"Nobody of it is worth."

"No reason to get excited, the thief he kindly spoke. There are many here among us-"

"That's enough," Sirius interrupted.

"- who feel that life is but a joke. But you and I, we've been through that."

"And this is not our fate, so let us not talk falsely now..."

"The hour's getting late!"

And, as one, everyone in the room except Sirius busted out with, "All along the watchtower! Princes kept the view, while the women came and went, barefoot servants too. Outside in the distance, a wildcat did growl. Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl!"

"CAN IT!" Sirius shouted, stopping the harmony. "I get it, Hendrix can sing a good song. Just shut up."

One of the prisoners spoke up. "We were singing the Bob Dylan version."

"We do pass the time well," the Unspeakable mused.

"God, I need to get out of here," Sirius muttered, careful with his wording this time, lest one of the prisoners started to sing Bob Dylan's Hurricane, or Don McClean's American Pie. He didn't want to spend hours debating the lyrics with a dozen insane prisoners and one accountant. And the Unspeakable guy.

"Why didn't Bill sing?" one of the prisoners asked.

Sirius followed the eye-paths of the other prisoners towards Bill, a balding man with bloodstained robes. Bill was rocking back and forth, muttering something indistinct.

"What's he saying?" Sirius asked warily. He and the Unspeakable approached the man Sirius would later know as Bill the Baby-Boiler and listened to his rambling.

"Hmm... orangutan flavoured," Bill hissed. Every prisoner in the room rolled their eyes, and one, dressed as an accountant but not the accountant, spoke up,

"If it wasn't funny the first time, why the hell did Bill the Baby-Boiler think it would be funny the next seven thousand and eighty-six times?"

"That's only as long as you've been in here," another prisoner, possibly the accountant, said sadly. "He's said it about eighty-three thousand, nine hundred and sixty-four times. Now it's eighty-three thousand, nine hundred and sixty-five times."

"Wow, that's amazing! How did you count all that?"

"I'm an accountant, it's what I do."

And suddenly, the accountant burst into tears and positioned himself into a small ball.

The Unspeakable and Sirius tuned out the accountant's cries so Sirius could ask, "Please, please, tell me you know of any way out that doesn't involve me going to Hell or Heaven." Left unsaid was that it was probably Hell.

"No can do, friend," the Unspeakable said sadly. "You could try willing your way out. You know, so we can laugh when you fail."

"I tried that," Sirius said. "As soon as I woke up, I tried getting back into Harry's head-"

"Wait, what?"

Sirius shrugged it off. "Oh, I was an Occlumency shield for a while there."

The Unspeakable placed his hand on his chin, deep in thought. "Hmm... that's a first here, I think. Well, it's a first for as long as I was here."

"And that is?"

"Sixteen years or so. No matter, friend. Try willing yourself out, but not into Harry's head. I have a theory."

Sirius closed his eyes and thought about getting out of the Veil and into the real world. He thought of what it was like to be free - the feeling of breathing, eating, sleeping around or just sleeping. He imagined the pleasure in defying death by drapery by stepping back out into the real world and showing those naysayers who's boss. By showing those bastards that doubted him that he could survive this...

A fine golden sheen appeared around Sirius' feet, and started to travel up his body at a snail-on-crack's pace. Sirius noticed and cried out in shock.

"Hallelujah! I'm outta here!"

The Unspeakable's eyes widened, and he laughed. "I knew it! It seems your experience as Harry's Occlumency shield gave you an anchor to the real world. Because you had experienced life outside of here after arriving here, even if that experience was from Harry's mind, you found it! My friend, you have found an exit!"

"Yippie!"

"Friend, can you do me a favour when you leave?"

"Sure thing," Sirius said, watching the glow spread to his torso.

"Find my distant nephew. After my sister died, I learnt he existed, and I wanted to give him my fortune, to help him out. My sister, Eileen, she married a Muggle and... she wanted her son to be happy. And I think it can turn his life around."

"So you want me to find the guy and tell him what?"

"Tell him to visit Prince Manor and open the vault the house elves will lead him to with the combination of 6653. Got that?"

"6653," Sirius repeated. The glow was reaching his neckline, and he was feeling all warm and tingly. "What's your nephew's name?"

An eerie sound pierced Sirius' eardrums, and the glow covered his eyes.

"His name is..." the Unspeakable said slowly. "His name is Severus Snape."

And Sirius knew no more.

..::..--.--..::..

Upon waking up, Sirius noticed one essential thing. That thing was quite hard to not notice, but he was excited enough to recognise that he just noticed that thing. He was alive, and on the other side of the Veil, the Death Chamber to be precise. The other essential things, such as he was hungry and horny as hell, came moments later, and Sirius clasped his wand, to reassure him that it was still there. He was free!

"Time to get the hell out of here," he announced, deliriously giddy about his new rebirth. "Wow... Sweet freedom is just as good as my fifth year, when Andrea Summerby pulled me into that broom cupboard! She had a tongue like a Mongolian Long-Tongued Lizard, and a mouth like a-"

Then he remembered the request of the Unspeakable on the other side of the Veil.

"There is no fucking way that Snivellus is getting that money."

..::..--.--..::..

Sirius is alive? Will he save the day for the captured Harry? What's up with Neville and Luna's summers? Why does Scrimgeour want to speak to Harry so badly?

To be continued in Chapter 5...

..::..--.--..::..

**4 down, and 5 is next. Just a few preview snippets: We will follow the adventure of Sirius out and about in the world again, the adventures of the captive Harry, and the aforementioned meeting between him and Daphne. Also, watch for references of the overarching plot and more Bob Dylan songs. **

**Until then, feel free to review, read the chapter again or go about your day doing whatever you had planned!**


	5. Four Seasons

**This is the last chapter, folks. Why I've ended the story here are detailed at the end of the chapter, but suffice it to say that the summer is over.**

..::..--.--..::..

Disclaimer :: All things Harry Potter are owned by JK Rowling, and it would be quite an insult to her if I were to claim them as my own wouldn't it? _¡No es mina!_

Rating :: See Chapters 1-3.

'Tis The Season of Summertime

Written by Matt Silver

..::..--.--..::..

On the previous adventure... It was the start of term, and Daphne Greengrass arrived at Hogwarts and demanded an explanation from Harry about his holiday. So, he tells an interesting story: Harry's holiday was in full swing and he was all ready to pack up and leave, when suddenly, he was spotted by two Aurors back in England. Uh oh, because those Aurors wanted his blood! After being captured after a lengthy and contrived chase, Harry verbally sparred with his Aurors, and was then put in the care of Tonks, who was to guard him... Meanwhile, Sirius busted out of Harry's head and back to Veil, where he promptly busted out into the real world, ready to kick some arse and take some names of those he kicked arses of.

Chapter 5 :: Four Seasons

..::..--.--..::..

August ::

It was cold. And it wasn't the weather; no, it was summer, and the weather was pleasant, if not entirely English. It was the temperature in the room, where three people were standing and one was lying down. Now, don't imagine these four are in some kind of food freezer/cool room, but you're right if you think they're underground. Got any closer to the answer? Think over it again, and remember that one person was lying down... in a cold room. A cold room that was deep underground, as part of St Mungo's hospital in London.

"Welcome to the morgue," said Healer Benson bluntly, gesturing around to the eternally cold room. "Aurors...?"

"I am Auror Al Stern, and this is my partner Michelle Rebell."

"Ah yes, Savage told me you were coming. Wanna see the dead guy?"

Stern did not look amused at the Healer's behaviour, but nodded tightly. Healer Benson waved his stunted wand in a circular pattern, removing the sheet over the dead body in the room lying on a cold steel table. The dead man was in his mid-fourties, with greying hair and a pot belly, as you would expect from a man of that age who followed his wife's example and let himself go.

"Our corpse is a Muggle man whom I haven't had a chance to identify-"

Rebell cut in. "It's not your job to identify. That's ours... or we'll pawn him off to the Muggles."

Benson shook his head. "I wouldn't recommend that, missy. Muggles have no real medical diagnosis for Dementor's Kiss followed by the Killing Curse, do they? Remember how we're trying to keep magic all secret?"

Rebell rolled her eyes, while Stern looked over the body. "Definitely the Dementor's Kiss?"

Benson did not look as jovial anymore. "Are you two going to take some identification photos or ask me if I've done my job and waste the time I could be using to go home and see my family?"

"So that's a yes?" Rebell asked. Benson nodded, and glared at the two.

"Hurry it up."

After the cantankerous Healer left, Stern and Benson used several spells to spot signs of dark magic, as well as taking pictures of the deceased, noting how he died and taking a few fingerprints for good measure. Apart from evidence of recently being Stunned, the Muggle man had only been victim of a Dementor's Kiss, then finished off with an AK. Said Stunning made Stern suspicious, if the stern frown underneath his moustache was anything to go by.

"I'm suspicious, Auror Rebell," he murmured. "A Muggle man comes across a Dementor and is finished off by an outside source?"

"Maybe You-Know-Who's feeding his new soul-sucking soldiers," Rebell said sarcastically.

"A possibly." Stern nodded. "Let's compile a report back at the office, but after that, we send his picture to our Muggle liaisons. After that, you Floo Robards and check if Azkaban has been emptied of its guards, or if this is a rogue one controlled by some Dark wizard..."

Rebell groaned, but retained professionalism when Stern gave her a look. "Yes sir..."

Stern left the morgue, while Rebell looked to the dead body in the room. Completely at ease, she leaned into the body's ear.

"Between you and me, I kind of wish I wasn't working with captain tightrobes over there. But, that's the way the Cockroach Cluster crumbles..."

..::..--.--..::..

Harry Potter was bored. Indeed, that's why he was drumming his fingers on the table in front of him, awaiting something interesting to happen. Across from him, the equally bored Tonks was using her Metamorph powers to switch between different toenail colours. Upon arriving at a teal grey, she sought the opinion of Harry.

"I don't care, Tonks," the teen said tiredly. "I didn't care for steel grey, copper grey, bronze grey, silver grey, navy grey, grey grey, and gun metal grey. So why would I start caring about your grey fetish now?"

Tonks stuck her tongue out at him. "You could've just nodded along, like any good man would've done."

Harry resumed his finger drumming, and Tonks resumed her task with a new approach, trying different shades of pink this time. The two were simply waiting around in a small room in the Leaky Cauldron. Both were waiting on the appearance of Tonks' boss Gawain Robards, who would either explain to Harry why he was really arrested (Although the Potter teen had his suspicions) or simply Portkey the lad over to dreary old Azkaban for a few decades.

Either way, Harry mourned the fact he wouldn't get to eat some lunch/dinner for quite a while.

Food on the mind, Harry stopped his finger drumming and leaned back, head hitting the wall with an audible THUMP. Tonks ignored him in favour for her own task, while Harry's little bump with the wall further increased his recurring headache. Not scar-related, but similar to the ones he got while Sirius was adjusting to the task of being Harry's Occlumency shield.

With head leaning against the wall, Harry heard something from the other room.

"...the Dark Lord will be pleased!"

And, suddenly, his interest was peaked.

..::..--.--..::..

Richard and Rosalynn Nott were the middle children of the large Nott family. With six siblings, the two were the only twins and the closest out of the lot. Fredrick Nott, the eldest, was vampire food, and Theodore, the father of the now-deceased Theodore Nott Jr, was in Azkaban. The other Notts, having been killed or thrown in Azkaban over the years for their Dark-related crime (Excepting Edgar Nott, who was imprisoned for headbutting the Minister of Magic's wife), were not exactly the representatives of their family. No, it was up to Rick and Rosa to uphold the name and not join the Dark Lord.

Unfortunately, the two graduated Death Eater school a week ago, and the Nott name would never get any reputation back.

"Say Rosa, do you think the Dark Lord will be pleased?" Rick asked, sipping his Gillywater, hold the Gilly.

"Think?" Rosa said disbelievingly, turning up her rat-like nose. She and Rick shared mostly identical features, being scrawny and dark-haired. "Of course, the Dark Lord will be pleased! We caught the Muggle didn't we? We successfully delivered him to Lobell. What's there to be worried about?"

"Well maybe we shouldn't talk about Death Eater business without a Silencing Charm?" Rick hissed.

Rosa waved him off. She was going to get around to it sometime or later. "But I'm not exactly happy with how we caught the Muggle. I thought we agreed to do the Standard-Death-Eater-Duo-Fighting-Bludgers-Routine!"

"No, no," Rick said, shaking his head. "We were supposed to the Rat-In-The-Maze, Trapped-While-Looking-For-Cheese-Stun-Trap! And that's what we did?"

"No we didn't! The RITMTWLFCST requires bait, you imbecile. But we trapped him with the wards we set up-"

Rick took a long sip from his Gillywater. "Genius, if I do say so myself. A true RITMTWLFCST."

Rosa groaned. "No it wasn't genius you... cretin!"

"Cretin, am I? And why would that be?"

"Because YOU set up Anti-Muggle wards inside the house _where the Muggle was_! But we didn't have bait, so there was no reason to set that trap, while the Muggle brained himself trying to escape his own house."

Rick scratched his chin. "That does seem kind of useless. Why didn't we do the standard routine, again?"

Rosa rolled her eyes and gave her twin a glare. "Luckily the neighbour was hosing his garden, eh Rick? Easier target than the brain dead bastard we left bleeding to death in his own home."

"Rosa, was it me or you who said the plan went off without a hitch?"

Rosa remembered her earlier statement which fully contradicted her previous argument. "Dammit. It was me."

"Good money though," Rick said dreamily. "I mean, I knew the Walkers were rich, but to pay us that much for a simple pick-up and drop job? Great stuff."

"But what I want to know is why," Rosa whispered. "Why is our Lord working with the Walkers? I mean, wait- did you set up a Silencing Ward?"

Rick shook his head. "You said you were going to do it."

"You stupid son of a-" Rosa pulled out her wand and gave it a wave, encompassing the two in a Silencing Ward. However, the effect was ruined when Rick tried to order another Gillywater, but Tom the barman couldn't hear his order.

..::..--.--..::..

"You stupid son of a-"

And then Harry heard no more.

"Shit," he muttered. The Order member/Auror in the room looked up, the question of 'What's up?' written clearly on her face.

"I was just listening to a very interesting conversation," Harry started. "Auror Stern mentioned a Dementor sighting earlier right?"

"Before he ran away from you, right."

"Anyway, two Death Eaters were having a conversation, and they mentioned the kidnapping of a Muggle and sending the Muggle somewhere for a guy named Walker..."

Tonks frowned and tried to place the name. "I don't think I know that name. What else did they say?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "How about we actually head into the Leaky Cauldron and go ask?"

"Well that would be-" Tonks blushed. "Totally logical. Let's go."

Harry stood up and audibly cleared his throat. "Tonks, handcuffs."

"Oh!" Tonks bounded over to him and waved her wand, before tapping the handcuffs around Harry's wrists a few times. The cuffs eventually disappeared, but Harry felt the weight of them anyway.

"I meant for you to take them off," Harry said sardonically. "Not Disillusion them."

But Tonks shook her head. "Sorry, Harry. No can do on that front."

She lead him quickly out of the small room, Harry shuffling along with his hands in front of him and close together, looking altogether stupid in the process. The two entered the main area of the pub, and headed for the booths adjacent to the room the two were just in. Bad luck struck again, as all the booths were empty.

"Must of missed them," Tonks said. She then decided to voice a concern. "Harry, you weren't fucking with me were you? Just to get out of the cuffs?"

"I was not fucking with you," Harry hissed. Tonks accepted that and headed over to Tom, asking him if any shady characters had been around.

"Apart from him?" Tom asked, pointing to Harry.

"What the hell did I do to you, you old turncoat?" Harry seethed, the fact that Tom threw him to the Aurors earlier coming to mind.

Tom ignored him and continued talking to the Auror in the room. "Well, I just spotted two of the Notts, Rosalynn and Richard, I think. They were bickering like usual, and left after... I don't know why... Rick was shouting at me, I think, and Rosa just carted him out of here."

"Rick and Rosa _were_ their names," Harry added helpfully.

Tonks put on her Auror mask and walked to the nearby fireplace. She threw a fistful of Floo Powder into the fire and bellowed, "Ministry of Magic, Auror Office!"

The flames turned green, and Tonks turned to Harry. "Come on, you crazy prisoner you. I can't go Death Eater hunting alone with a prisoner, so we need to drop you off earlier than normal."

Harry nodded. "And where are you going to drop me off?"

"I'm sure we'll find somewhere."

Ten minutes later, Harry was sitting in a Ministry holding cell, which was thankfully empty of any other magical miscreants. According to Tonks (Before she put him inside the cell and locked it), Mundungus Fletcher was a frequent in the same cell that currently held Harry. And Harry could almost smell Dung in there... the smell of tobacco and desperation.

"Great."

..::..--.--..::..

Sirius Black's trip out of the Department of Mysteries and back to the Leaky Cauldron was rather uneventful. He was still getting used to the whole being alive thing, and forgot for a few minutes that he was still wanted for mass murder. So, after scaring a bunch of children in the Ministry (His claims that he wearing a costume did nothing to tide their fears), he applied a weak glamour and arrived at the entrance to Diagon Alley.

Once inside, he approached Tom the reliable barman for a word on what's-what. Tom explained to the friendly stranger that Harry Potter had been arrested by Tonks (Or as Tom described her, "The female Auror that looks like she could be a fifth year."), and that Harry had been taken to the Ministry. Dejected, Sirius headed out of the Leaky Cauldron and into Diagon Alley, stopping in Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

"George!" he exclaimed, going up to the front counter. Luckily, George hadn't moved from his spot, and was even eating the same sandwich. There were no customers in the store. Upon seeing a blond man who looked a lot like Sirius Black, George's wand was out in an instant.

"Who are you and why do you look like Sirius Black?"

Sirius shook his head and deactivated the glamours. "It is me, George. Listen, how many hours has it been since Harry came by, chased by Aurors?"

Cautiously, George replied, "About three or so."

Sirius nodded. "So, Harry left his bag with you, and I need it back."

George rolled his eyes. "Do you think I'm stupid or something without my twin around? I know that Sirius Black is dead! Come on mate, this isn't funny."

Sirius grinned a Marauder-like grin. "I am also known as Padfoot-"

"Wormtail could of told you that."

"I was in the Order of the Phoe-"

"Snivellus could of told you that."

"I stuck that Dark Arts book to Remus' crotch last summer."

"Sirius!" George cheered, remembering the incident fondly. "Good to see you, mate! How are you, you know, alive?"

Sirius waved it off. "By the time I explained it to you, you'd most certainly want a drink afterwards."

"Try me."

Sirius only had a limited amount of time on his hands, but set about telling his tale anyway. It was a bad habit of his to get caught up in a story in times of great need, and Remus Lupin also shared this habit. Why else would they spend two hours explaining Marauder history to Harry, Ron and Hermione while Remus knew there was a full moon that night and that Pettigrew could've escaped?

By the time Sirius was explaining the prisoners inside the Veil singing 'All Along the Watchtower', George's nose bled a little.

"Ignore it," he dismissed. "I was testing a product earlier."

George gave up Harry's loot bag after a few more minutes, and Sirius went about resizing some of Harry's clothes to fit him. After trimming his beard in George's upstairs flat, Sirius now looked a lot more like a member of society and less like an escaped convict. After saying goodbye to George (Who would go out that night and get quite drunk), Sirius headed out of the WWW and to Gringotts, where more business awaited him.

..::..--.--..::..

Harry had a visitor after an hour of being locked in a Ministry holding cell. The Auror guarding him (Dawlish, he thought it was) announced quite clearly of the incoming visitor, and Harry stopped counting the bricks in the room and stood up. He heard distinct voices down the hallway.

"So Potter hasn't been tortured?" a female voice asked.

Dawlish just sounding disappointed. "Nope. Short of Umbridge and You-Know-Who himself, the boy has survived too long without a good torturing."

Harry shook his head. It seemed there were some Ministry stooges still hating his guts for telling the truth last year.

"Too bad, indeed," the female said. "Now, be a good little Auror and leave the room. I want to talk to him alone for a while."

"I can turn off the monitoring charms, you know," Dawlish said conspiratorially. "Ten minutes, you and Potter, one wand. I recommend a good Bone-Breaker in the hip-bone. Extreme pain, wink wink nudge nudge."

"Did you just say wink wink nudge nudge and not actually do it?"

Dawlish said nothing, and Harry heard him leave the room. The female approached Harry's cell, and smiled upon seeing him. He smiled back, and nodded his head.

"Hey Daphne."

"Harry."

Daphne's wand was out in a flash, and she unlocked Harry's cell. She was wearing simpler clothes this time, but Harry had heard the snobby tone back during her conversation with Dawlish.

"Playing Daphne the snob again?" Harry questioned. Daphne took a seat beside him on the ground and nodded.

"Unfortunately, I forgot to bring the outfit," she said, gesturing to her clothes. Before Harry could say something about being happy with what she had on, she had already begun talking. "Imagine my surprise when Leo Davis returned to Canada earlier than usual and explained that he has two pieces of bad news. My surprise was that both news bulletins were actually rather good."

"Oh yeah?"

Daphne nodded again. "Well for one, you had been arrested by some Aurors. That was good news in that it wasn't related to me in any way-"

"Good for you."

"The second bit of news was that my parents have left the country." Daphne's look turned momentarily grim, but she sobered up quickly. Tough girl and all that. "Apparently, some vampires chased them out of the manor. Now I thought that the manor had wards to prevent their entrance, but apparently not..."

Left unsaid was that both Harry and Daphne wondered if their escape from Greengrass Manor a month ago caused this ward defect.

"Astoria is staying with her friend for the rest of the summer, while my now-confirmed Death Eater parents go for a run in eastern Europe."

Harry patted her shoulder sympathetically. "Sorry, I guess."

Daphne took his apology with a smile. "I'm cold. Put your arm around me and don't do anything funny. Funny is my job."

Harry put his right arm around her and she leaned in to him a little. The two adjusted for a moment, before silence set in.

"We're friends, right Harry?"

Harry didn't answer in words, simply nodding.

"And friends tell each other what the hell happened to them in the early summer, right?"

"Among other things."

"So, friend, explain how the meek Harry Potter I knew from Potions class turned into... well... less meek."

Harry grinned a little. "Okay, where should I start? I'm going to assume you know about the Visum Nex Effect?" She nodded. "Good, now that magic is wonky to say the least, and it helped me reunite with my godfather. He was killed by Bella Lestrange back in June, as you probably heard..."

..::..--.--..::..

"...and that's how I got in contact with your family. The rest is basically what I told you back in Canada."

Daphne, however, had a question. "So Black, your godfather, could appear to you?"

"Yep."

"In any form? Like a projection of himself as your Occlumency shield?"

"Pretty much."

The female in the room let out a light laugh. "Wow, I'm surprised he didn't appear to you as a naked girl or something, just to throw you off."

Harry frowned. "He could do that?" Honestly, it hadn't occurred to him.

"Probably," Daphne said, shrugging. "I mean, if he could take control of your head's memories and emotions, why not the part of the brain controlling your vision?"

Harry shuddered. "For once, I'm glad he held back."

"So where is he now? Listening in?"

A shake of the head. "No. He's been gone a few hours now. No idea what happened though. Probably got bored and found a way to sleep."

"How did-"

The two's conversation was ended by the opening of the cell door. In entered Auror Dawlish, sneering at Harry and Daphne (the former's arm still wrapped around the latter). Without any preamble, he announced to the room at large.

"Potter, they want you up in Amelia Bones' office. If you would put your hands out and accept these cuffs?"

The two teens disengaged, and Harry held out of his hands. After cuffing the teen, Dawlish turned to Daphne and gave her a not-so-obvious look, a look telling her to get going.

"Guess that's my cue," she said. "But I wouldn't mind an explanation of how you got arrested, Harry."

As Dawlish led them down the hall, Harry asked, "Are you coming back to Hogwarts this year?"

Daphne frowned. "I... I don't know."

"Well, I'll keep it touch. Until then..."

..::..--.--..::..

Upon arriving in Amelia Bones' office, Harry was seated by Auror Dawlish and met up with another Auror, who introduced himself as Lonnie Proudfoot. After Dawlish had left, Proudfoot began an impromptu interrogation.

"Director Bones and Robards will be here momentarily," he said. "Until then, how about we have a little chat..." He pulled out his wand and summoned a tea set. "Tea?"

"No thanks."

Proudfoot, undeterred, summoned a pitcher of pumpkin juice. "Juice?"

Harry shook his head.

"Understandable." Proudfoot brought out a bottle of Butterbeer. "Butterb-"

"Is it laced with Veritaserum?"

Proudfoot shook his head a little too quickly. "Of course not. You can trust me, Harry."

Remembering a scheming old man who sucked sweets and promised the same, Harry was weary to accept the bottle. Well, it looked like he would have to repeat his previous Veritaserum interrogation with Umbridge some time ago. Carefully, he tipped his head back and kept his lips shut while pretending to drink. Proudfoot looked immensely pleased with himself before slipping into a more authoritative voice.

"What's your name?"

"Harry Potter, but I've been known to be called many names."

"Such as?"

Harry rolled his eyes internally. "The heir to Salazar Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Founders."

Proudfoot stored that obviously and totally true information for later. "Have you ever killed?"

"No."

"You never killed anybody?"

"I have to confess... I never killed anybody."

"Not even a teensy bit of killing?"

"Maybe I just wasn't trying hard enough?"

Before Proudfoot could snap, the door opened and in came Amelia Bones and Gawain Robards. Harry's first glimpse of the Head Auror did not bode well, especially with the manic grin on his face. Combined with the scars and the greying hair, Harry was almost reminded of Alastor Moody on a good day.

"Auror Proudfoot, what are you doing?" Bones asked, her tone icy.

"Interrogating."

"Proudfoot! Did you put Veritaserum in that Butterbeer?"

Harry handed the bottle over to the Auror. "Yeah, he probably did. But I didn't drink it."

Cue the Auror's face turning red and Robards' grin getting wider. Without another word, Bones dismissed Proudfoot and turned to Harry.

"My sincerest apologies about that," she said honestly.

"It's fine. Seriously, all Aurors don't like me and I accept that now."

Amelia took a seat behind her desk, opposite the teen, while Robards flanked her on the left. "You wish to know why you are here, correct?"

Harry nodded. "Wouldn't hurt."

"Scrimgeour's orders," Robards said gruffly. "Bring you in by any means necessary. Lucky for us, Stern and Rebell found you using an illegal Portkey..."

"You can't prove that."

"Don't be immature," Robards snapped. "Anyway, once word spread you were here, Amelia came and pulled me out of my budgetary meeting with the Minister to chat with you. Scrimgeour had another meeting to get to, so it was no big deal-"

Bones cut in. "Ever since I heard the orders, I asked myself, 'Why does Scrimgeour want you brought in so badly?'. The answer was quite simple, though. Scrimgeour wanted Dumbledore on his side, and was willing to hand an escaped Harry Potter over to the Headmaster because of this."

"And my escape was actually made public?"

Robards gave Harry a 'Are you retarded?' look. "Are you an idiot or something? We all heard of your escape from various sources, but we paid the _Daily Prophet _and the Wizarding Wireless to not give attention to that fact. We can plus two and two Potter, and it's four. The fact that Dumbledore wanted you at the Muggles and was calling his little Order to go get you was confirmation enough. He wanted you back in his hands, and Scrimgeour wanted Dumbledore's help."

"Now what, then?"

Bones rummaged around her desk and pulled out a blank bit of parchment. "How about you start with what's been going with your summer?"

Harry was about to tell them a fabricated summer involving him running away from home and hiding out in Muggle France when a knock on the door stopped him.

Into the office stepped Sirius Black. And by the looks on Bones and Robards' faces, they could see him too.

"Sirius Black!" Bones cried, wand out in a flash and levelled at Sirius' chest. Robards copied her action, before noticing the man behind Sirius.

The man, a tall figure with a mane of greying-blonde hair and walking with a slight limp, commanded the attention of the room with a simple, "Director, Head Auror. Wands down, please."

"Wait!" Harry yelled. "You can see Sirius Black? Standing in the doorway? For realsies?"

Three simultaneous confirmations punctured Harry's eardrums.

"But you died," Robards said.

"I got better," Sirius replied, grinning like the madman he was.

"You're alive again?" Harry asked, rather discombobulated about the whole thing.

"He was actually dead dead?" Robards clarified.

"I was," Sirius confirmed. To prove his alive-ness, he punched a nearby wall. "Solid and hurting. Ahh... I missed that."

A few seconds passed, before pain shot through Sirius' fist. "OW FUCK!"

"Sirius!" Harry cried. "What the hell is going on?"

"Long story," Scrimgeour interjected. "Black met up with me in my office, turning himself in with quite a story about how innocent he was. Using a bit of Vertiaserum-"

"Minister!" Bones snapped. "You had that in your office?"

"That and six other truth potions of varying strengths and weaknesses."

"That's not the point!"

While Bones and Scrimgeour argued, Sirius turned to Harry. "I know this seems confusing, and believe me, it is. When you get out of here, head to Grimmauld Place and wait for me there. It's empty, so don't worry. Don't try Apparating, I had ol' Scrimmie make a Portkey for me. Just walk from where it drops you off."

"Ol' Scrimmie?"

"We've been chatting for about an hour or so, I think," Sirius said. "I've got him to agree to let you go and not hand you over to Dumbledore. Turns out he doesn't actually like the old man, go figure. Also, the illegal Portkey charges have been dropped, thankfully."

"Your Portkey, Potter," Minister Scrimgeour said, handing a shoe to Harry. Harry also noticed Sirius was only wearing one shoe. "Sorry for the misunderstanding. I hope we can sit down and talk about this little war some time soon."

Harry accepted the Portkey from the Minister and his loot bag from Sirius. Robards also handed over Harry's wand, taken from him by Dawlish some time ago. Harry tapped the wood to the shoe and let the Portkey activate, whisking him away with a flash of blue light.

..::..--.--..::..

Sirius arrived at Grimmauld Place about an hour later, after Harry had scrounged up a sandwich using what little food he had left in his loot bag. Sirius appeared in the dingy kitchen, stealing a sip of Harry's Butterbeer.

"Why am I in this shithole?" Harry complained.

Sirius gave his godson a small grin. "Well, I called Kreacher while I was at Gringotts and he told me it was empty. So, I ordered him to go on a scavenger hunt while we're staying here."

"Oh?"

"Let's not go into that," Sirius dismissed. "It was either that or a one-sided game of the wizard's version of Russian Roulette, but with Avada Kedavra."

"Fun..."

"Suppose you need an explanation?" Harry glared in confirmation. "Okay, it's simple. It started when you killed Bellatrix at the start of the month."

Harry nodded, remembering the incident quite vividly. Bellatrix's death didn't faze him after a month of solid holidaying, mostly because he had vented his angst on hotel pillows.

Sirius continued on. "With Bella dead, I felt a pull to the Veil. I pulled myself back there and left your head. Since it was just Stunned by ol' crazy Bella, I was free to move around in there. Let me tell you, it is a really crazy place."

"Lots of white? Confusing epiphanies regarding your families?"

"Lots of white, but no to the epiphanies thing," Sirius denied. "There's a whole bunch of other guys in there, prisoners, an Unspeakable and an accountant, who have been stuck in there for years and trying to find a way out instead of just moving on. They survive without food and water, and they can't physically touch anything but themselves. With help from my Unspeakable friend, I was able to exit because of you."

"Uh?"

"Oh yeah, it was because my time as your Occlumency shield anchored me to the real world still, and I could will myself out."

"No way..."

"But the highway." Sirius let out a bark-like laugh at his own lame joke. "I woke up in the Death Chamber at the DoM, and just walked out. I got your loot bag from George, and then I reclaimed my vault from the goblins - seriously, the pie threat works better on male goblins. Apparently something about their testicles being the main ingredient of goblin pie. Whatever."

"Go on."

"After getting some gold, I bought some robes and visited the Ministry. I declared myself alive, and used some creative storytelling to indicate that I was telling the truth about that and me being innocent. After springing you from Bones' office, I was interrogated and then some. I got the Minister's support now! Scrimgeour gave me the forms to put you under my custody, as a big 'fuck you' to Dumbledore. So, here I am. In the flesh, ready to take you out of Dumbledore's thumb legally, before he can get to you."

Harry decided to test the waters by seeing if he was dreaming. So he pinched himself. Yes, pain, so he was still awake. Then he reached over the table and pinched Sirius hard. So Sirius pinched him back, even harder. The back and forth pinching turned into an almost fist fight, before Harry realised that Sirius was really there, and he wasn't dreaming.

"Brilliant!" Harry cheered. "Now what are we going to do?"

"Three days before you go back to Hogwarts," Sirius reminded. "I say we get drunk and let me tell some stories. For example, I was in my fifth year when Andrea Summerby pulled me into a broom cupboard..."

"Keep it clean, Sirius."

..::..--.--..::..

September the 1st, 1996, was a typically warm day for the start of Autumn, but the weather was welcome nonetheless. Muggle commuters at King's Cross would have noticed several large groups of oddly-dressed people walk into a wall between platforms 9 and 10. Surprisingly, the wall was clear of bloodstains, but the Muggles would eventually head off and do something else. The barrier was warded that way after all.

One commuter noticed a teenage boy with jet black hair and round glasses walk into this wall and disappear, followed by a giant dog that looked not unlike an omen of sorts. That commuter would die in an unrelated heart attack a day later.

Totally unrelated.

After passing the Auror checkpoint, Harry Potter, dragging his new trunk with him, led the big black dog at his side towards the train. It was time for him to return to Hogwarts, to face his friends and Dumbledore. He was happy to still have friends at the end of this crazy summer, and was only slightly dreading the meeting with Dumbledore, probably considering that Dumbledore was left covered in gnome blood last time the two met.

Speaking of gnomes, Harry had paid the Lamont clan with more gnomes for their services over the summer, and the greedy bloodsuckers were so merry they drained the gnomes of all their blood as soon as Harry brought them. After witnessing the gory and spontaneous dinner, Harry had gone home with Sirius and eaten a sandwich. A few minutes passed before he wondered why the sight of gnome blood made him so hungry for marmalade.

Sirius and Scrimgeour were working on the magical contract to block Dumbledore from meddling in Harry's affairs, but there were a lot of things Dumbledore had stuck his beard hair in, and it would take at least another two days for the former convict and the Minister to fix it all.

As of now, Harry was all poised to say goodbye to Sirius on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

"So..." he started hesitantly. "Bye?"

Sirius shook his doggy head and barked loudly, as if laughing. Harry patted him on the head and grinned. Sirius gave Harry a look, and the Boy-Who-Lived tried to interpret it.

"Be wary of Ron and Luna?" Harry guessed. Sirius had offered up another theory on why Peter Pettigrew had turned evil, and it was that Peter was an outcast among James, Sirius and Remus because his first name didn't end with a 'S'. So, Sirius smartly recommended that Harry be wary of his friends that didn't have an 'E' or 'Y' at the end of their first name. So, Harry need not be wary about Daphne, Hermione, Neville or Ginny, but was to be aware of Ron and Luna and their nefarious plotting.

"Oh, and I shouldn't try to Apparate?" Thanks to Sirius leaving his brain and there no longer being an Occlumency shield to focus him, Harry's one attempt of Apparation since Sirius left ended with an extreme splinching of both his arms. So, Sirius also recommended that Harry not try again until his Occlumency shield was back enough to focus him, or to relearn it with the rest of his year later in the school year.

"Or maybe I should be wary of Dumbledore?" Harry drawled. "Or maybe I should watch out for any garden gnome survivors, seeking revenge for the deaths of their brothers? Or should I be scared of the remaining Death Eaters, hiding with Voldemort to escape vampiric assassination?"

Sirius barked three times in confirmation, before give Harry one last nod and departing for the Muggle world. Harry watched the old dog go before hoisting his trunk up to the train.

Harry wandered the train for a bit, aimlessly looking... Specifically, he was looking for Ron or Hermione. But who he actually found was a much better alternative.

"Daphne?" he said, bewildered. Because there she was, dressed in a light blouse and dark pants, a gleam in her eye, a trunk in her hand and a grin on her face. She walked into an empty compartment, not noticing Harry. The teen male's blood pressure rose a bit after giving her a look over, but he managed to plaster a warm smile on his face when he entered her compartment.

Inside, he found her snickering. "What's so funny?"

Daphne caught on that he wasn't tackling the elephant in the room and continued, "Oh, it's my sister. She's kind of pompous, like my father, and I imagined that she wrote in a diary saying-"

"'Today I was pompous and... et cetera?"

Daphne smirked a little. "And how did you know that?"

After chatting a bit, Daphne managed to convince Harry to explain the last part of his summer adventure. By the time he was all done explaining, the Hogwarts Express was already on the move. Story finished, Harry sought to guess why she was really back at Hogwarts this year.

"'Cause of me, right?" Harry added tactlessly.

Daphne shook her head. "Mayhaps. Maybe I need a partner-in-crime, and my friend Tracey is a little lacking in the imagination department."

It sounded like a good idea to Harry. "What did you have in mind?"

Daphne fished into her pockets and pulled out two Galleons. "We transfigure these into Prefect badges and go around under glamour, getting money from the younger years."

"Devious," Harry said, impressed. He took the coin Daphne handed him. "Let's do it during the Prefect meeting, and target the first years only. They carry a lot more money on the train than the upper years, and they are likely to not know about the meeting."

"Why weren't you in Slytherin again?" Daphne queried, shaking her head as if a great travesty had occurred.

"Blame Malfoy," Harry countered. "You know, we should probably sit down and talk about schemes and the like some time. And the talk should be very private and fun. Maybe at Hogsmeade?"

Daphne beamed at him. "I'd like that a lot."

Harry returned with a bigger smile. "Brilliant. I wonder if the Three Broomsticks can make my perfect sandwich?"

"Perfect sandwich?"

"Oh yes, my dear. Harry Potter's perfect sandwich features two slices of wholemeal bread, a light coating of softened butter on each piece of bread, a layer of shaved chicken breast and two slices of hard cheese. Since my godfather died, my perfect sandwich had an extra slice of cheese. And I said to myself I was living life on the edge..."

..::..--.--..::..

Epilogue :: A Few Years Later

'Twas winter in the English countryside, and the roving green fields were speckled with white. These fields surrounded the expansive, yet modest, cottage that housed Harry Potter, and had for a few years. After a turbulent sixth year, he had employed several goblin contractors to build a replica of the Godric's Hollow cottage, but in the middle of Potter-owned land. The little cottage survived the war unscathed, mostly because no one could find the bloody thing, thanks to all the layered wards stacked on top of each other like a wedding cake.

The wards were keyed into a dozen or so people, from Sirius Black to Neville Longbottom, and even a few house elves in between, including Lanky and Dobby. But, the only one with a master key to the wards apart from Harry was Daphne Greengrass, of course. What else would be expected of the future wife of the Boy-Who-Lived?

Harry decided against sleeping in one morning, while his fiancee dozed under the sheets in their bedroom. He was finishing off his newest project: an autobiography on the Voldemort war.

Shock and horror, but it was true. Harry, Daphne and Sirius got smashed one night and decided that the truth about the war had to come forth, and Harry diligently started penning (or rather, quilling) _The Fall: Voldemort's Last Waltz._

Only vague details were known to the public about Voldemort's fall. They all heard about the Walker family, and how they played their part in Voldemort's corner, but not about who took them down once and for all. Stories were told about The Siege of Hogwarts, including the mysterious Swede and the Watch-Owl's assassinations during. Harry and Minister Scrimgeour's mutually beneficial partnership was well known, including the new laws to combat Death Eaters that Scrimgeour put in place at Harry's council. And finally, the full details of how Voldemort was trapped in Riddle Manor and decapitated by an injured Harry would be added to the book.

And Harry was an author of hyperbole, so he added in a sword fight and flying to his and Voldemort's duel.

"I'm telling you, Harry," Sirius had said. "You should make your story a fiction, not the truth! Come on, you even wrote about me and Andrea Summerby. Come on!"

Harry had nodded sagely, grinning on the inside. "A fiction you say? Put myself under a false name and release a seven book series in the Muggle world? And, because everyone likes a happy ending, I should be marrying a Gryffindor girl... like Ginny? And Ron and Hermione would be together, although I'm not sure how Luna would feel about that..."

Luna and Ron were a funny couple, to say the least. Who wore the pants in that relationship was hard to tell, but Daphne loved to think that Luna was the dominant one of the two. Harry only agreed with his future wife after she threatened him severely.

"And, to pour salt in the wound of my readers," Harry continued, "I would make the last two books a mixture of an overdrawn scavenger hunt and a contrived waffle of camping. Oh! And, and I would add in three super magical items! A piece of clothing... maybe a hat? And a super wand... the One Wand? I might also add in some kind of rock that lets me talk to my dead relatives (Even though I know how to already)... the Revive Stone!"

"Brilliant," cheered a drunken Sirius, knocking over a few discarded bottles. One of the bottles almost hit the unconscious Daphne, who had challenged Harry to a drinking contest and lost. "Brilliant from start to finish, Harry. Do that."

"No... I'm not _that _stupid..."

The idea of making his story a fiction had crossed his mind only once more, when Sirius suggested he cast a Confundus on some Muggle writer to get her/him to do all the work for them. Harry had said no, again, but wasn't sure if Sirius had gone along with the idea or not.

So, on a random winter morning while Daphne was sleeping and Harry was writing, the story was finished. Oh, and it was a week until Christmas.

"Woo!" Harry cried, spinning around in his 'writing chair'. "All done!"

A sleepy Daphne joined his celebrating a minute later by sliding in on his lap and glancing at Harry's pile of pages, compiled by a dictation quill and several charms to make it look printed.

"Good job," she complimented, giving Harry a little peck on the lips. However, Harry wasn't the least bit satisfied with just that, so he picked her up and carried her to their bedroom, for some post-finished-writing activity.

Later in the day, Daphne scurried off to Gringotts to secure a publishing license, while Harry visited the cheapest printing press he could find: the one at Luna's house.

"LUNA!" he called, brandishing the stack of parchment that was his book. "Lu-na!"

The woman herself appeared from under a stack of Quibblers, holding a quill dipping in yellow ink. Suspiciously yellow ink at that. "Harry?"

"The book's done," Harry said happily, handing it over. "Is your printer all working and stuff?"

"Oh yes," Luna said airily. She handed over a bag to Harry in exchange for his book. "Can you please take this bag?"

The bag growled. "What's in the bag?"

"What bag?"

Harry learnt all too soon that the bag was full of the Quibblers that didn't go on sale due to 'printing problems'. Said 'printing problems' may or may not have included the magazines gaining sentience and deciding to rebel against the Lovegoods. To elaborate, these 'printing problems' occurred in every batch, with the magazines' relative intelligence related to its content.

Daphne had coached Harry on the steps involved in book publishing in the wizarding world. First, the book would have to be printed (Editing not required, as come on... it costs money), then licensed, then the publisher would have to get it licensed, and then... bang! One book on the shelves and selling.

So, Daphne handled the publishing stuff. Walking into Gringotts with a T-shirt that said: 'Pie equals life... unless you're a goblin.', she meant business. Everything went smooth on her end.

Meanwhile, Harry and Sirius stormed _Flourish and Blotts_ and went up to one of the young store managers.

"Miss Granger."

"Hi Har- what are you two wearing?"

"Now's not the time for questions missy."

"We have a book to sell in your bookatorium complex. Take us to one of your managers."

"I am one of them..."

"Yeah, but until you stop going to Univ-"

"Stay in character, Harry! I mean - Jones."

"Smith."

"Are you two going incognito? Why?"

"So's your-"

"In character! No, ma'am. Now, we'll have a crate of a certain book at this store in three days. We want it to be kept quiet, you see. The licences will be here too, just so you know."

"So why the suits? And the hair?"

"You know too much!" Harry pulled out a small rod from his suit pocket. "Shades!"

Sirius appropriately shaded his eyes, while Harry made the small rod flash a few times. Hermione's 'what the fuck?' look didn't change during. As the two suited men left the store, Hermione remembered their obsession with 'Men in Black' when it came out a couple of years back, then realised Harry didn't want attention about his autobiography coming out.

"But why the suits..." Hermione wondered. If the two wanted to be incognito for real, they would just glamour themselves or have Daphne do Harry's work for him... maybe they wanted the attention? "Of course not."

It was the opposite. The two men wanted to be spotted, hence the suits.

_Harry Potter, writer? _splashed the _Daily Prophet _the next day, as the tabloids had actually cottoned on quickly enough. Harry and Sirius' jaunt in the bookstore the day before was mentioned, and the article continued as such:

"... _Following Potter's departure, an unnamed manager talked to Miss Granger, who apparently told of the book's arrival in three days. Said manager, still unnamed for his own health reasons ("_Cough... can't have Potter come get me or anything...") _quickly pieced together Harry Potter's identity, and proposed an event for the book's release._

_"The _Daily Prophet _will have coverage as the book is released. Will Harry Potter reveal all? Go on to Page 3 for more!"_

"Perfect," Daphne said, ditching the paper and attacking her breakfast. Neville Longbottom, sitting next to Harry on the other side of the table, piped up.

"Why? I thought Harry didn't want the extra attention for his book?"

"Harry doesn't, Neville," Harry himself said. "Or does he?"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Ignore Mr Sarcastic here, Neville. You'll find out all in a few days."

"Or will he?" Neville joked. Breakfast finished, he had Lanky take his plate and stood up. "I got to head to work, so ciao and stuff."

"Bye Neville."

"Harry says goodbye."

Harry hid from the public for the next few days. Luna confirmed all the books had come out okay (Minus a few 'printed problems', now residing in Harry and Daphne's den, tied to a scratching post with a thick chain). The goblins, via Sirius, confirmed the publishing license were all approved. Hermione confirmed that her store would receive the first batch. Neville confirmed he and Tracey would be showing up for the book's release, if not to just stand around and laugh at the proceedings. Ron also confirmed he had a strange thigh rash, but it was all cleared up now. Gross.

Daphne stayed with Harry during his self-imposed isolation, the two passing time in their own ways. Needless to say, the house was all out of strawberries, Firewhisky, treacle tart and chocolate syrup after a day or so.

On the day of the book's release into the public, Harry and Sirius scoped the alley, both wearing normal robes this time. Harry was holding a featherweight-charmed crate, containing his books.

"What's the situation?"

Sirius' keen eyes could see the hundreds of people crowding Diagon Alley. He could see the patrolling Aurors, making sure there were no Death Eaters in the crowd; every reporter and media whore from the _Prophet _to _Pumpkin Pie Weekly; _andMinister Scrimgeour, all bundled in fur for winter.

Oh wait, that was his hair.

"Of course," Sirius muttered. Harry gave him a look.

"What's the situation?" he repeated.

Sirius, a man of poetry, recited a gem as fine as the kind supposedly stuffed up the arse of a tightly-wound man so he could crap out a diamond. "A hundred fans and a fuckload of press."

"Of course," Harry muttered. "Scrimgeour?"

"Check."

"Rita Skeeter?"

"Check."

"The Weasleys, Luna, Neville, Hermione, Tracey and Daphne?"

"Check."

"... Dumbledore?"

"... Check and mate. Nah, he's not here, thankfully."

"Thank god for small favours." The last thing Harry needed was Albus 'Next Great Adventure' Dumbledore haunting him again.

Harry and Sirius released a few fireworks from Sirius' ever-present toolkit, before the Boy-Who-Lived and the Man-Who-Decaptiated-You-Know-Who Apparated to the erected stage with a loud 'POP!'.

"Hello, ladies and gentleman," Harry greeted, once the smoke had cleared. He was met with cheers and the like, and a little part of him was almost guilty about what was to happen next. "I trust you're all here for my tell-all book?"

The crowd's cheer sounded somewhat like an agreement, but it was hard to tell.

"Let me read a passage from the introduction," Harry said, pulling a book out of his crate. He also set the crate down carefully beside him. No one could hear the ticking sound emitting from the inconspicuous crate.

"My uncle was the kind of man who hid whiskey in vases, and my aunt and cousin were the type of people who enjoyed a good gossip. I grew up with those nuts and can honestly say I never thought one of their personality... traits I guess, could rub off on me. And one did. I, like my relatives, can hold a pretty good grudge.

"What am I grudging about, you may ask? Well, there's a laundry list of things that are detailed in this book, but I've kept my silence. Until now, right? That's what you're all thinking, huh? Well, how about this? How about I not tell you all why I have a grudge, and instead tell you how I lost a drinking contest against my godfather and had to repay him. Now, over the years I've known the bastard, he's always thought of something embarrassing for me to do, and always put me under magical oath to do it.

"So, he, Sirius Orion Black, put me, Harry James Potter, under a magical oath to write an autobiography, tease the wizarding public with it, and then just take it away. Because, he thinks it's immature and totally Marauder-worthy."

Just then, the crate beside Harry exploded. He didn't mind. All the hard work put together for his autobiography was one morning of writing his speech for that day. Oh, and doodling a him versus Voldemort fight on some of the pages. With swords. And flying. And Harry armed with an Elder Wand and an Invisibility Cloak, his dead parents cheering him on via a Resurrection Stone.

"So yeah, I've got nothing for you folks this time," Harry said, almost regretfully. If he was fully regretful, he probably wouldn't be smiling as much. "So, without further ado, I'm going to take a holiday around the world with my darling wife - oh yeah, to all those who thought she was at Gringotts for publishing licences, she wasn't. Yeah, we hitched a week back or so." And Daphne had visited Gringotts for unrelated accounting business involving the Greengrass family account.

Daphne and Sirius emerged from the spluttering and almost-rioting crowd, both joining Harry on the stage. Sirius was grinning madly, while Daphne was flashing the crowd with the diamond on her ring finger. The three grasped hands and took a bow, before Sirius popped off to parts unknown to avoid the rioters, while Harry and Daphne Portkey'd to their summer home down in Australia's Gold Coast.

"'Tis the season of summertime, DG. Here anyway," Harry said, smiling widely. Daphne nodded in agreement, fingering her fake wedding ring. "How did you like the fake wedding announcement?"

Daphne's 'wedding ring' turned into the dull rock it was before the transfiguration. "Ho hum. You should've made sure I was fully unconscious before I gave Sirius that idea."

"Yeah, I think that making sure you're unconscious and not feeding Sirius ideas about a fake marriage. And you know, me actually being put under oath and all... Not my best idea, eh?" _Harry's note to self: Stun the witch_. _Always stun the witch!_

The two headed out to the beaches sometime later, ready to enjoy the whirlwind time that was the summer. Hell, as long as this one didn't involve being shielded by and from insanity or dealing with and against Death Eaters, it would be a fun time for all.

..::..--.--..::..

_That was summer... _

_... or was it?_

..::..--.--..::..

**Yeah, that's it. My key rules of writing are to never leave work unfinished, and if I lose interest in the story, I end it. This story was an experiment in a humorous fic, and it taught me some stuff (As did To End in Serenity) about writing and the like. But, I should've ended it at 3 chapters as planned. Because, when I did go on past the three-chapter mark, the story did not come as easily. Yeah, and I totally contradicted myself in the previous chapter by talking about the future chapters.**

**So, I neatly ended this fic the best I could. The summer's over, and a brief epilogue shows off the future while leaving things ambiguous about the war's details. Yeah, this ambiguity was a "just in case" thing, just in case I do a 180 and revisit the events between the end of summer and that epilogue.**

**With this one down and out, it's high time I got back to To End in Tranquility. Epicness of a grand scale, that one. ;)**

**Before I ride off into the sunset, I'd like to thank all the readers of this story, especially the ones that reviewed, put this in alerts or favourites, or just were kind enough not to flame me haha! Seriously, I'm glad that people liked this little venture. I realised today I had 15000 hits, which was... wow... that feels like a big number.**

**Thanks for reading,**

_Matt Silver 3k_

..::..--.--..::..


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